


No Going Back

by jacaranda_bloom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Australia, Bottom Louis, Carpenter Harry, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lighthouse Keepers AU, M/M, Mechanic Louis, Remote location, Restraints, Romance, Sexy Scrabble, Strangers to Lovers, Strip Scrabble, Top Harry, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 56,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/pseuds/jacaranda_bloom
Summary: Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 212
Kudos: 566
Collections: One Direction Big Bang Round 3





	1. The Opportunity Presents

**Author's Note:**

> Well hi there and welcome to my very first Big Bang! Thanks for taking the time to check out my little story and I hope you'll stay for a while and come along for the ride.
> 
> First and foremost, thank you to Isa ([whenthebodiesspeak ](https://whenthebodiesspeak.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr), the amazing artist who chose to take this journey with me. She is so unbelievably talented and has been an absolute joy to work with. Her patience and dedication and creativity have made this story so much more than it otherwise would have been and I'm eternally grateful that she picked this story out of all those she could've chosen. Her work is everywhere through this fic and it is richer for her contributions.
> 
> Isa - I really can't thank you enough for all your hard work, and you'd really think as a writer I'd be able to find the words, but I'll just end up rambling on forever, so I'll just say thank you, you're amazing, and I wouldn't have wanted to do this with anyone else.
> 
> Shout out to the Big Bang mods - you guys are stars - and thank you also to Big Bang Panic Room and Larrie Writers group chats for all of your support throughout this process.
> 
> Thank you to my ever patient and encouraging beta [ Nicola](https://missytearex.tumblr.com/), I truly can’t thank you enough.
> 
> [ No Going Back - Companion Travel Blog !!](https://nogoingback.travel.blog/)
> 
> This fic has a companion travel blog (yes!! really!!) which is beautiful and filled with gorgeous images and manips built entirely by my artistic collaborator, Isa. The text and images from the blog posts are also contained within the fic itself for ease of reading but please go and check out the blog too, if you have time. There are some spoilers on there obviously, so be warned ;)  
> 
> 
> [Maatsuyker Island Lighthouse](https://lighthouses.org.au/tas/maatsuyker-island-lighthouse/)
> 
> Remote lighthouse keepers are actual (unpaid) jobs that people do on Maatsuyker Island which is a real place off southern tip of Tasmania at the bottom of Australia, so it really is a case of next stop, Antarctica. The images of the island and lighthouse that you will find in this fic are from the real location too.
> 
> You can see the original article seeking applicants that started me on the journey to this story [ here](https://www.travelandleisure.com/trip-ideas/lighthouse-keeper-job-tasmanian-island/).

The bartender sets the drink down in front of him on the soggy coaster, ice clinking in the glass soothingly. Louis holds his credit card against the top of the offered machine and waits for it to ding and then slides the card back into his wallet, shifting forward on his stool to return it to his back pocket.

This vodka Red Bull tastes no different to the other four he’s already had this evening and the familiarity isn't entirely unwelcome. It’s all familiar at this point. It might be a different hotel name on the coaster, but they’re all the same. Impersonal and blending into one whilst making claims to being original and a home away from home.

Louis’ actual home is three hundred miles away, tucked into a quaint little village on the outskirts of Manchester. He doesn’t actually live there, of course. His work takes him on the road for most of the year so it had seemed financially foolish to maintain a residence. Instead, it’s rented out to a nice family who are dutifully paying off the mortgage for him and turning it into a smart investment. He sometimes daydreams about living there, adding his own touches, maybe remodelling the downstairs. But for now, they stay as mere musings in his mind.

He takes another sip of his drink and looks out over the room from his vantage point propped at the end of the bar. Conference-goers just like Louis make up most of the clientele tonight. Busily networking and exchanging business cards in a bizarre ritual that Louis can’t be arsed to participate in. The pharmaceutical industry is dominated by middle-aged men so the few women here are in a target-rich environment, fending off advances from the slobbering masses. It’s an all too common scene.

The door off to the side opens and Louis catches a brief stanza of someone doing their utmost to murder Wonderwall; Karaoke yet another stalwart of these hotels and a painful one at that. 

He’s been doing this job for eight years, although it feels a lot longer. Repping all over the country for Advenis has its perks, for sure. The money is insanely good and… well, that’s probably it, but the cash was the sole reason he took the job so it’s not like he can justifiably claim to be disappointed. He’s just so fucking bored. Hotel to hotel, city to city, conference after mind-numbingly dreary conference put on by whichever drug company is pedalling its wares this week.

Louis is good at his job, really good, and has the bank balance beefed up by his regular bonuses to prove it. He’s never once not met his sales targets, his personable charm, boyish good looks, and flirty banter aiding in his endeavours and adding to his sales skills and product knowledge. He’s always been able to read people, quickly establishing what makes them tick and understanding how to use it to his advantage.

Louis downs the last of his drink and catches the bartender's eye, silently asking for another. His gaze is drawn by a shrill laugh to a woman and man at the other end of the bar. She flicks her hair in a practised move and the man shifts forward in his seat to whisper something in her ear. Her mouth curls up in a smile like the cat who’s got the cream and she nods as her companion pulls back and reaches for his wallet. Louis watches as they get up to leave, passing by the door to the Karaoke room which has opened to spill the intro to ABBA’s Waterloo out into the bar which is surely about to be destroyed. Sacrilege. 

The bartender sets his drink down and they go through the motions once again. He’s not bad looking in a slick kind of way. Louis lets his eyes roam unabashedly as he walks away to serve another customer. He’s got a decent arse on him and has been giving Louis the eye since he walked in, but Louis really isn’t up for pulling someone he’d have to wait around for. It’s only early and this drink makes six, so it’s unlikely he’d be able to last until he knocks off anyways. 

He’d come to the bar to see if there was anyone who piqued his interest for a one-nighter but the talent pool has been sorely lacking. He doesn’t make a habit of it necessarily, but no-strings-attached sex is one of the few perks he gets with this miserable job so he’s not going to deny himself a bit of physical gratification when it’s on offer. Sadly, tonight isn’t looking like it’ll be one of those nights.

Louis unlocks his phone and scrolls through his Instagram feed. He rarely posts anything himself, not really keen on sharing his life with the world, and not really sure he’d have much to share if he wanted to, but it’s a nice distraction when he needs it. And he needs it now. A couple more drinks and he’ll be slipping off to bed, readying himself for yet another day on the road to financial independence. In addition to the property he considers his home, he’s got three other houses and two flats, all with mortgages that are being paid off by his tenants with chunks off his own cash paying them down faster. It’s a nice little portfolio. Another few years and he'll be set for life. He could conceivably stop now if he wanted to but his course is set and it would take something monumental for him to depart from it sooner than planned.

He’s thought about taking a break. Just a few months to recharge, go somewhere sunny and sit on a beach, but he’d have to go alone and that’s pretty much where the appeal wears off. 

The bartender appears in front of him and sets down another drink.

“Uhhh… thanks?” Louis looks at him with a raised brow. “But I didn’t order this, mate.” Maybe Mr Nice Arse Bartender is keener than he thought.

“Nope. He did,” the bartender answers flatly and nods towards the other end of the bar. “Guess it’s your lucky night.” 

Louis detects a hint of annoyance in his tone so it seems like he could’ve tapped that if he’d been more motivated after all. He lets his eyes follow the path laid out for him and they land on a tall man standing at the opposite end, drink raised in front of him. Louis narrows his eyes and grins. He’s fucking gorgeous is the first thing Louis observes and he lets his smile widen as he picks up his fresh drink and gently tips it toward the man in thanks. Louis tilts his head, motioning toward the stool next to him in invitation and the man moves quickly in response. He’s tall and broad and carries himself with a confidence that is instantly sending the blood rushing to Louis’ dick. Tonight is definitely looking up.

The man makes his way around the other patrons gathered at the bar, running his fingers through his hair. Nice long fingers Louis notes. As he approaches, Louis can see that he’s wearing a dark suit and a crisp white shirt tucked into his trousers and unbuttoned to his sternum. He doesn’t look like a pharmaceutical sales rep, but then again, people always say that about Louis too. Louis swivels around on his seat in readiness for his admirer to join him.

The mysterious stranger walks the final few metres and comes to a stop at the stool next to Louis. Up close he’s breathtakingly beautiful, porcelain skin and a hint of pleasant cologne, just enough to be alluring without it being overpowering.

“Well, hi there,” the man says with a slow drawl, the timbre of his voice deep and beckoning. 

“Hi, yourself,” Louis replies, making sure to let his voice rasp a bit, nice and sultry, holding out his hand. “I’m Louis.” 

“M’Harry. Nice to meet you, Louis,” he says politely gripping Louis' hand in his own. Louis has always been a sucker for good manners, particularly when they’re wrapped in such a delectable package.

“Have a seat, Harry.” Louis motions for him to sit. Harry sets his drink on the bar and slides onto the stool, swivelling it around so he’s facing Louis. Their legs bump together before Harry settles himself with one knee between Louis’, pressing into his thigh. So this guy is definitely forward. Excellent. Louis doesn’t mind the chase when he has the time, but he prefers these types of hookups to be as easy and drama-free as possible and it seems that his partner for the evening is on the same page. 

Harry rests his elbow on the bar and tilts his head to the side. “Good night?”

Louis grins. “It is now.”

Harry’s smirk in response makes Louis’ dick twitch in his pants. “I was just about to head up to my room when I saw you sitting all alone down here. You not here with anyone?”

“Nope. Just little old me.” Louis takes a sip of his drink and looks at Harry coyly over the rim of his glass.

“Well, that’s just all kinds of wrong. Someone as handsome as you shouldn’t be on their own.”

“Oh really? How about yourself then? Wouldn’t have thought someone as gorgeous as you would be on their own either.”

Harry chuckles low and long and it sends vibrations through Louis’ body from where their legs are touching. “That’s our lot in life, isn’t it? Sales reps, that is. I assume you were here for the god awful conference as well?” Louis nods and Harry continues. “Living out of a suitcase, roaming the countryside-“

“Meeting strangers in bars,” Louis finishes for him, figuring there’s no point beating around the bush.

“Exactly. Just strangers who pass in the night,” Harry says almost wistfully. “Never getting more than a first name before they’re off to their next destination.”

Louis laughs at Harry’s forwardness. It’s refreshing. They’re both clearly on the same track and he’s grateful for not having to dance about and pretend like they’re not gonna end up in bed together within the next thirty minutes. Louis downs his drink and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Wanna get out of here?”

Harry smiles knowingly and a dimple pops in his left cheek. Damn, this guy is good. He drains the last of his drink and slides off his stool. “Fuck yeah, let’s go.”

Louis slips off the seat and walks in front, Harry’s hand coming to rest on his lower back, guiding him through the crowd. His heart ticks up a beat, anticipation thrumming in his veins. He loves this bit, the possibilities, the excitement of two strangers heading toward a certainty they each desire.

They stop at the lifts and Louis presses the call button, stepping back as Harry presses up against him, hands sliding around his hips. He feels Harry’s length prod into his cheek, already firming up. He’s big and Louis licks his lips, a sharp tang of saliva building in his mouth at the implications of what that will mean. He’s not a size queen by any means, but he hasn’t been properly fucked in a while and his hole clenches at the thought of Harry pounding into him, holding him down and making him take it. 

Harry leans down, breath caressing the outer shell of his ear and Louis tilts his head slightly in response, exposing his neck. “My room or yours?” Harry murmurs and lets his lips rest on the sensitive spot just behind Louis’ ear. 

“Yours,” Louis decides, remembering the mess he’d left when he was getting ready earlier, desperate for a drink after the shitty conference had finally finished.

“Mhmmmm… okay.”

The lift dings and Harry grips harder onto Louis’ hips, walking them inside the thankfully empty car but staying plastered to his back. The doors close behind them and Louis watches in the mirrored wall in front of them as Harry reaches over and hits the button for the eleventh floor, quickly returning his heated gaze to Louis in the reflection.

Harry holds their stare for a beat and then narrows his eyes, pushing Louis forward into the mirror and Louis plants his hands on either side of his head to stop himself, turning his head and pressing his cheek into the cold surface. 

“God, you’re so hot,” Harry breathes into his ear. “Can’t wait to get you upstairs. Gonna give it to you so good.”

Louis groans and pushes his arse back into Harry’s crotch, sparks of electricity flying around his body as he feels Harry’s very apparent arousal. This is shaping up to be one of his best hookups so far and his entire being is on fire with the anticipation of what’s to come. “Yeah. Gonna fuck me proper?”

Harry shoves his knee between Louis’ legs and Louis parts them easily, the movement causing him to drop down a bit so he’s practically sitting on Harry’s thigh. Harry reaches around and slides his hand over Louis’ clothed cock, rubbing at it as he trails his tongue up Louis’ neck.

“This arse was made to be fucked,” Harry growls and lifts his leg higher, forcing Louis up onto his tiptoes, feet scrabbling for purchase as Harry squeezes Louis’ now fully hard dick through his jeans.

The lift slows and Louis hears the doors open as Harry removes his leg and Louis’ heels drop back onto the floor. He doesn’t have a moment to catch his breath before Harry is grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the lift behind him. The corridor is bright, the harsh fluorescent lighting reflecting off every shiny surface. He’s in a bit of daze, Harry’s long fingers wrapped firmly around the delicate bones of his wrist, grounding him as they stride down the hallway, each identical door flashing past them and hinting at a dizzying speed.

Harry brings them to an abrupt stop outside one of the doors, holding his card over the reader as Louis hears the welcome beep over the blood rushing in his ears. Harry pushes the handle down and shoulders the door open, pulling Louis inside. Harry slots his card into the power unit, low lamp light filling the room with a soft hue and immediately rounds on Louis, pushing him backward into the wall which he hits with a gentle thud.

Harry moves in closer, eyes fixed on Louis’, hands coming to rest on either side of Louis' head. His breath is tinged with the bourbons he’s no doubt been downing in the bar and Louis wants to taste it. His arms hang loosely at his sides as he waits for Harry to make the next move. He could do it himself, surge forward and take what he wants, he’s no wallflower after all, but he kinda likes the idea of letting Harry chart their course for the night.

Harry ducks his head and is a breath away from Louis' lips when he stops and pulls away, brows furrowed and concern written on his face. “How… how much have you had to drink?”

The question startles Louis and bursts the bubble of passion and anticipation he’d been floating in. He feels a wave of self-consciousness wash over him. “Uhm…” he counts back on his head. “Six? You?”

Harry nods. “Five for me, plus a couple of glasses of wine with dinner earlier. Just wanted to check.”

“Bit late for that isn’t it?”

“It’s never too late to make sure we’re freely consenting adults before diving into bed, Louis.” He says it with a fond smile, no hint of judgment or condescension.

“I like your style.”

Harry snorts a laugh. “That’s my name actually. Styles, Harry Styles.”

“Bond, James Bond,” Louis giggles, feeling a bit silly at the obvious joke but Harry beams at him regardless.

Harry brings one hand down to Louis’ hip, tugging him away from the wall and sliding it around to grip his arse. “Yeah? You gonna be my Bond girl?”

“Perhaps?” Louis says with a flutter of his eyelashes.

Harry growls and dives in, suctioning onto his neck and as he lifts him up off the floor. Louis squeals with glee and wraps his thighs around Harry’s waist, crossing his ankles at Harry’s lower back and flinging his arms around his broad shoulders. Harry spreads his legs slightly to take Louis’ weight, pushing forward with his hips and lining up their cocks, both of them letting out low groans at the delicious friction. 

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, love your voice. Wanna hear you.”

“I like to be loud. Hope that’s okay?” It’s a rhetorical question, Harry clearly loves it, most guys do, but it’s nice to know anyway.

“More than okay.” Harry trails open-mouthed kisses up Louis’ neck, reaching the edge of his lips before taking a deep breath. “This is going to be so good. I can feel it.”

“I can definitely feel it too,” Louis says and grinds down on Harry’s cock. 

Harry pulls away and grins. “Cheeky.”

“Always. Come on then, Styles. Show me what you’ve got.” It’s a challenge, but one that he’s confident Harry will meet. The determination on his face is indication enough of that.

Harry’s fingers find the hem of Louis’ shirt and he lifts it up and over his head, Louis deftly undoing the last few buttons on Harry’s shirt, shucking it off his shoulders and revealing Harry’s gorgeous chest. He’s tattooed. Not heavily, but similar to Louis’ smattering of ink. His arms are muscled, but not garishly so, just the right amount to be able to hold Louis up and manhandle him which is perfect. 

“Nrrgghhh… wanna lick you all over,” Harry says as he starts doing exactly that. “Taste so good.” 

Louis digs his fingers into Harry’s hair as Harry laves his tongue over Louis' chest piece, tracing the script and leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. It’s amazing, but Louis wants more, wants to feel those lips on his own, to drown in Harry. He pulls Harry up by his hair and seals their mouths together. It’s bruising from the get-go, urgent and heady and  _ fuck _ , he tastes so good, can’t get enough.

Harry grinds into him, his hard length thick and long and Louis wants to get his hands on him, his mouth, wrap his lips around him, feel the weight of him on his tongue, filling his arse, stretching him until he’s sure he’ll split open. 

Harry reaches between them and Louis sucks in his stomach to give him better access. The button of his jeans and flies are dealt with swiftly before Harry takes care of his own. He’s a multi-tasker and Louis revels in the confidence he’s displaying, it’s making Louis hotter by the second and he’s suddenly a little bit glad of his boring job and this tedious conference. What can he say? He’s a half-glass-full kind of guy, so sue him.

Harry breaks the kiss, panting into Louis’ mouth. “Can’t do this here. Wanna get you on a horizontal surface. Lay you out so I can fuck you properly.”

Louis nods eagerly. “Mmmmmm... promises, promises.”

“Oh, trust me. You’re gonna be walking funny tomorrow.”

Harry stands to his full height and grips Louis’ arse cheeks, moving them away from the wall and towards the bed. Louis tucks his face into Harry’s neck and takes the opportunity to nip and suck at the sensitive skin before Harry dumps him unceremoniously onto the mattress, the soft covers easily absorbing the bounce. Louis kicks off his shoes and divests himself of the rest of his clothes as Harry watches on, seeming to get lost for a moment. Louis reaches up and flattens his palms against the headboard, swivelling his pelvis and drawing Harry’s eyes to exactly where he wants them.

Harry’s standing with his fingers tucked into the waistband of his trousers, frozen, mouth hanging open and Louis could swear he sees a bit of drool escape his lips. “You just gonna stand there ogling me all night or are you get over here and fuck me like you promised?”

Harry snaps his jaw shut, eyes trailing up to Louis’ as an animalistic look appears on his face. He’s gonna eat him alive, Louis is sure of it, and at this moment he can’t think of anything he wants more.

Louis watches as Harry stalks over to his suitcase returning with a wry smile. “Oh yeah, definitely gonna fuck you, baby. I always keep my promises,” he says and chucks a tube of lube and a string of condoms onto the bed.

“Optimistic.” Louis offers with a smirk.

“Prepared.” Harry counters, looking every bit the sex god Louis hopes he’s going to be. The rest of Harry’s clothes hit the floor in a blur and then he’s on him, caging him in with those big strong arms.

Louis brings his arms down from the headboard and scratches up Harry’s back earning a low moan. Their kisses are more urgent now, more purposeful; tongues and teeth, exploring and biting, surging and breathless. Their sweaty skin sticks together and the bed covers rustle beneath them as they writhe around, hands roaming over every inch of each other.

Harry rolls them over and Louis sits up, straddling Harry’s hips. He takes a moment to drink him in; plush pink lips, bitten and shiny from their kisses, moss-green eyes with pupils almost completely blown. He’s gazing up at Louis with such an intensity that Louis is finding it hard to breathe. He decides that now is probably the only chance he’ll get to take control of the situation and he’s desperate to suck Harry off, even just a little. He smiles devilishly and starts to scoot down Harry's body, not breaking eye contact.

“And where do you think you’re going, hmmm?”

“Oh, nowhere special,” Louis replies innocently, earning an eye-roll from the man under him. Louis continues undeterred and slides his knee between Harry’s thighs. Harry parts them easily, crunching his toned abs to lift his upper body off the bed for a better look. Louis positions himself on his stomach, propped up on his elbows on either side of Harry’s hips and glances down, getting an up-close eyeful of one the nicest cocks he’s ever seen. Long and cut and fucking perfect. He licks his lips reflexively and leans in, unable to restrain himself any longer. Wrapping his hand around it loosely to hold it away from Harry’s body he tilts his head to the side, opening his mouth and curling his tongue around the shaft.

Harry groans and slumps back onto the bed as Louis glides up from base to tip, circling his tongue around the head before sucking it into his mouth and letting his collected saliva drool down. He follows the trail and takes half of Harry’s cock into his mouth, there’s no way he can take it all but that doesn’t matter, blowing Harry isn’t the end game anyway. He bobs his head up and down, letting the girth stretch the edges of his lips while the sharp tang of precome makes his mouth water. 

Harry brings his hands down and threads his fingers into Louis’ hair, cradling his face but not thrusting up, just letting Louis guide the pace and depth. Harry’s cock hits the back of his throat and he breathes in through his nose, emitting a low whine as he pushes past the sensation and suctions harder.

“Fuck,  _ yeah _ , that’s it, baby. Feels so good.”

Louis doubles his efforts, his lips meeting the hand he has wrapped around the base. He may not be able to take him all the way but he’ll damn well show Harry a good time. He swallows around him, tears pricking at the intrusion as he keeps his gag reflex at bay. 

“Jesus fucking  _ christ _ , you’re so good… so good,” Harry murmurs from above as Louis eases back off and up the shaft, massaging under the crown with his tongue and jerking him off with his hand. 

Louis hums around him and looks up to find Harry staring back at him, pupils fully blown and mouth hanging open. Louis smirks as best as he can around him, waggling his eyebrows and Harry snorts a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

Louis pops off Harry’s cock, saliva dampening his chin and he imagines he must paint a fairly amusing image. “ _ Excuse _ you,” Louis says incredulously but entirely in jest. “I’ll have you know-“

“Shut up and get up here,” Harry interrupts, rolling his eyes fondly and lifting Louis under the armpits, hauling him up his body like he weighs nothing at all. He flips them over in a move far too smooth for the circumstances and Louis squeaks out a half-baked protest as he finds himself flat on his back with Harry hovering over him.

“Rude.”

“You love it.”

The sassy retort Louis was preparing dies on his tongue as Harry leans down and captures his lips in a passionate kiss. Harry shifts his body to lay half on top of Louis and half on the bed, slotting his leg between Louis’, spreading them open. Louis brings his knee up, planting his foot on the bed allowing Harry better access which he takes advantage of without hesitation, sliding his hand down to grip Louis’ cock, stroking it firmly. 

“Mmmmmm,” Louis groans into Harry’s mouth, the kisses becoming more urgent in time with Harry’s movements. He can feel the thrum of arousal coursing through his body, skin tingling at every touch, goose pimples rising on his arms and legs. 

Louis reaches out blindly for the tube of lube Harry had thrown on the bed earlier, patting the covers until he finds it. He pushes at Harry’s chest to break the kiss, earning a confused look until he holds up the lube for Harry to see.

“Want me to do it or would you like the honour?”

“Me. Definitely. Definitely me.” Harry’s eagerness is endearing and also incredibly hot. He loves when guys open him up, loves feeling their fingers inside him and he’s particularly excited to get Harry’s long fingers in him.

Louis giggles. “Well, only if you’re sure.”

Harry smirks and snatches the lube from Louis’ hand, getting to his knees and flipping the cap. He pauses and tilts his head to the side. “Back or front?”

Louis considers it for a moment. He usually prefers to be on his hands and knees for hookups, it’s somehow less personal, and he also feels less caged in without the weight of another person bearing down on him. But for some reason, he doesn’t mind the idea of that with Harry. He wants to see him, touch him, feel him all around. “Back. Yeah, on my back.”

Harry beams at him, dimple appearing in his left cheek as butterflies take flight in Louis’ stomach. He’s really quite something. Sexy and sweet all rolled into one.

Harry positions himself between Louis’ legs and squeezes some lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up like the gentleman he apparently is. “Sorry. It’s gonna be a bit cold,” Harry says apologetically, a small crease appearing between his brows.

Louis chuckles because who even is this guy? “Yeah, thanks. Familiar with the process. Not my first rodeo, love,” he replies softly, the endearment falling easily from his lips.

“I figured,” Harry grins. “But still, doesn’t hurt to show some manners.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Heeeyyy. I’m hot and sexy and very manly.”

“Yes. Yes, you are,” Louis says with a smile. “Hot and sexy and manly and adorable and about to fuck me into oblivion.”

Harry smiles. “Yeah. That too.” He reaches down and presses his slick fingers against his hole, rubbing the lube around the puckered rim, never taking his eyes off Louis’. He eases the tip of a finger inside, breaths coming out heavily, and concentration etched on his face.

Louis relaxes at the intrusion, one hand gripping onto Harry’s arm, the other pressed into the headboard to brace himself. Harry is slow but sure, watching Louis’ face carefully as he slides in further, pulling back and going in again, getting deeper with every thrust. He’s methodical, rhythmical almost, and it has Louis grinding his pelvis down to seek out more. Harry smiles and obliges, adding a second finger. It’s a stretch but Louis is so turned on that the muscle gives easily. 

“Yeah. Feels good. Gimme another,” Louis pants out, desperation already starting to build.

“Bossy.”

“Eager,” Louis counters. “Just keen to get that monster cock in me.”

“Well,” Harry drawls as he adds a third finger, the addition making Louis’ hole clench before relaxing again. “If you want that, you have to be patient. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“So considerate,” Louis says as he bears down, forcing Harry’s fingers deeper.

“My mother raised me to be a gentleman, Louis.”

Louis giggles airily. “Did she now? Well, I’m…  _ very _ glad she did,” punctuating his words with a clench of his hole.

“Fuck, can’t wait to be inside you.”

Louis heartily concurs; having sucked Harry off only serving to heighten his need. He reaches over for the strip of condoms and tears one off, ripping it open and blowing the tip out in readiness. Harry thrusts in and out a few more times, scissoring his fingers and stretching the muscle wide before removing them and taking the condom from Louis’ hand. He hisses at the touch as he rolls it down his length, lubing himself up and squirting some more onto Louis’ hole.

Louis reaches up and lays his hands flat on the headboard, bringing his other knee up to plant his foot on the bed, letting Harry know he’s ready with a nod and an encouraging smile. “Alright. Show me what you’ve got, big guy.”

Harry smirks and lines himself up, the tip of his cock pressing against Louis’ rim and holding in place. He slides his arms under Louis’ knees, forcing them back toward his chest, leaning his weight into it and pushing past the resistance. His cock pops past the rim and they both groan, Louis’ eyes rolling back into his head. It feels fucking incredible. Harry’s truly big, one of the biggest Louis has ever taken, not cartoonishly large, but Harry was definitely right in his estimation, Louis will surely be walking funny tomorrow and a satisfied smile forms on his face.

“You look…” Harry breathes out. “You look well-pleased with yourself there. Care to share?”

Louis opens his eyes as he feels Harry slide in further, briefly stealing the air from his lungs. Harry’s expression is smug but strained, clearly trying to keep himself from thrusting all the way in too soon. “I just… you’re living up to your big guy title.”

Harry chuckles, the vibrations going straight through Louis’ body. “I aim to please,” he says as he bottoms out, holding in place as they both try to calm their breathing. Louis waits for a few beats, the stretch is glorious and he feels so full.

“Oh  _ fuck _ , yeah, that’s good. Feels so good.” Louis brings his hands down from the headboard and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, eyes fixing on Harry’s which are waiting for his go. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Harry grins back at him, wasting no time pulling out and slamming back in hard, shifting Louis back up the bed with the motion. Louis flings one hand back up to the headboard to steady himself, groaning loudly as he grinds back down to meet Harry’s next thrust. 

Harry sets a merciless pace, giving Louis no time to catch his breath between surges, skin slapping on skin and moans filling the hotel room. 

Just as Louis settles into the rhythm Harry shifts and pushes Louis’ knees further toward his chest, changing the angle and hitting his prostate dead-on.

Louis throws his head back, eyes squeezing tightly closed as he digs his nails into Harry’s shoulder and cries in ecstasy. “Yes! Right there. Right, fucking,  _ there _ !”

“Yeah. Yeah, baby,” Harry pants out. “That’s it, let me hear you.”

Louis is happy to oblige, unable to stop the litany of curses and praise that fall from his lips. “Fuck.  _ Fuckfuckfuck _ . So good. Harder, give me everything.”

Harry doubles his efforts, pistoning in and out like a man possessed. Louis’ cock is trapped between them, getting worked over with every move Harry makes and he’s rapidly hurtling toward the edge of the abyss. He glances down at the look in Harry’s eyes is sheer determination and hot as all hell. Louis trails his fingers up from Harry’s shoulder and into the short hair at the nape of his neck, grabbing a handful and tugging hard.

“Oh god, yeah. You’re fucking perfect. So good,” Harry says with urgency in his voice, so Louis guesses he must be getting close too.

Harry’s eyes are wild and there’s sweat beading at his temples and on his top lip. Louis lets himself take a mental snapshot, wanting to tuck this memory away for future wank-fodder, for those lonely nights on the road when he has no one to share his bed with.

Harry reaches between them, grabbing ahold of Louis’ dick and starting to strip it furiously. The result is instantaneous. Louis can’t hold on any longer. “Nrrgghh... yeah, gonna come,  _ fuck _ !”

“Come for me, baby, let go.”

Louis’ orgasm is ripped from his body, fireworks going off behind his tightly closed eyes as he spills his load onto his stomach and over Harry’s hand. He’s free-falling. The world spinning out of control. He’s dizzy with it. Harry’s still pounding into him chasing his own release and all Louis can do is lay there and take it. But he’s more than happy to. He forces his eyes open, not wanting to miss the moment when Harry reaches his peak, wanting to burn it into his brain.

He doesn’t have to wait long, just gives one final tug on Harry’s hair and a clench of his hole and that seems to do the trick. Harry freezes, body tensing above him, mouth hanging open on a silent scream. He trembles, eyelids fluttering closed, neck elongating as he angles his head to the ceiling and then he comes. It’s one of the most beautiful things Louis has ever seen. 

Harry looks down at Louis, a blissed-out expression appearing on his face as he starts to pump in and out lazily, working them through the aftershocks of their orgasms. Louis smiles and trails his hand to Harry’s cheek, stroking it gently, feeling the light scruff under his palm. Harry slows his movements and moves his arms out from under Louis’ thighs, planting his hands on either side of Louis’ rib cage. His feet drop back down onto the bed, knees falling open and Louis pulls him down, sealing their lips together. Harry smiles into the kiss and Louis can taste the salty sweat as he nips at his upper lip before licking languidly into his mouth.

Harry reaches down and holds the condom as he pulls out, the loss making Louis clench around nothing but sigh contentedly at the same time.

Harry pecks him on the mouth one more time and then pulls back, a look of sheer fondness on his face. “Lemme just get rid of this.”

Louis nods as Harry crawls off the bed, heading into the en-suite with a swagger in his gait. It’s a nice view. He’s got a pert little arse and legs for days, his slim waist tapering up to a broad and toned back. He hadn’t had a chance to properly ogle him earlier but he’ll happily take his fill now. He stretches out his arms and legs, starfishing on the bed as he hears the water running from the bathroom. He’s a bit of a sticky mess but he’s hopefully Harry will bring back something to clean him up.

As if on cue Harry returns, cloth in hand. He wanders back into the room, ducking down to grab a couple of bottles of water from the mini-fridge in the way. Louis scoots up the bed and props himself against the headboard, rearranging the pillows for comfort. Harry passes him a bottle before flopping down beside him and handing him the damp cloth.

“Why thank you, kind sir. Such a gentleman,” Louis says with a lilt in his tone as they both take long swigs of their drinks and Louis cleans himself up. He chucks the cloth onto the bedside table and rolls onto his side, Harry mirroring his position, smiling broadly. 

“You’re welcome. That was… quite something.”

Louis smiles and brushes a few wayward strands of hair behind Harry’s ear. It’s possibly too familiar for a post-hook-up situation but at this point, he can’t be arsed to care. He feels happy and sated and tingly all over and wants to stay in this little bubble for as long as he can.

“Yeah. It was. Thank you.”

Harry blushes and it’s so endearing Louis wants to wrap him up and keep him. The thought sends a shot of panic coursing through his veins at the implication. He doesn’t do that. Ever. A hook-up is just that. One night only. No strings attached. He needs to shift the mood. Now.

“Fancy raiding the mini-bar?”

Harry’s smile falters slightly for a reason Louis can’t discern, but he recovers quickly. “Oh! I’ve actually got a bottle of vodka in my bag. Present from a happy customer.”

“Man after my own heart. Let’s have at it then!”

They both jump up off the bed and Harry rummages through his bag, taking out the bottle and a pair of briefs for himself as Louis grabs two glasses from the tray on the bench. Harry sets the bottle down on the coffee table between the two armchairs and goes to sit down but then pauses. “Ice?”

“You really do have the best ideas,” Louis says with a smile. Harry grabs the ice bucket from the tray and heads to the door, flipping the safety latch so he can get back in. Louis fishes around in his haphazardly discarded pile of clothes to find his briefs before settling himself in one of the armchairs.

When Harry returns he’s holding the bucket above his head like a trophy as he sways his hips from side to side, kicking the door closed and nearly falling over in the process. He’s absurd and gorgeous and Louis couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he wanted to. The aftermath of some hook-ups are so painfully awkward that Louis can’t wait to get the hell out of there, but he’s almost as excited to spend a bit of time with Harry now as he was to get in his pants. His booze buzz has almost worn off thanks to their energetic activities but he’s confident that can be reignited quickly after a few vodkas.

Louis fixes them their drinks as Harry opens his laptop on the coffee table and fires up Spotify. The 80’s playlist is a surprise but definitely not an unwelcome one. “Had you pegged for more of an Indie music fan,” Louis states as they settle back into their chairs.

Harry shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink, wincing slightly at the obvious burn of the alcohol as it slides down his throat. “Nah, more of an eighties tragic.”

“Nothing tragic about it, love. That decade gave us some absolute classics.”

Harry’s face lights up. “Right?! So underrated.”

Louis nods agreeably as the opening bars of Lionel Richie’s  _ All Night Long _ filter out of the tinny Mac speakers. “All night long, huh? That’s a big call,” Louis says with raised eyebrows.

Harry smirks, downing the rest of his drink and reaching for the bottle. “Maybe not  _ all _ night, but I’d be keen for another round later if you're up for it?”

“Again with the brilliant ideas. I like it.” Louis finishes the rest of his drink and holds out his glass for Harry to refill. “Also, I seem to recall being promised that I’d be walking funny tomorrow and I don’t think we’ve achieved that yet.”

“Well, that’s just unacceptable. Plus, there are still three condoms left in that string and we wouldn't want the others to feel unloved.”

Louis snorts out a laugh. “You’re so weird.”

“But in a good way, I hope?”

“In the best way.” Louis takes a sip of his freshly poured drink and leans back, resting his foot on his knee. “Alright. I’ll bite. Why the hell are you a pharma rep?”

Harry settles himself back into his chair, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “Was gonna ask the same thing about you?”

“Touché.”

Harry tells him his story, long slow phrases, meandering sentences, and off-tangent additions to provide backstory details all punctuated with more drinks. His journey hasn’t been too dissimilar to Louis’ actually. A bit lost in their originally chosen careers, Louis as a mechanic and Harry as a carpenter, wanting to earn more money to secure their futures, bored as shit with the industry they’ve landed in but both sticking with it to achieve their financial freedom. Louis offers glimpses of his own story, their words intertwining, shared experiences and goals and hopes and dreams.

They talk for hours, one playlist merging into the next as the bottle of vodka dwindles to nothing before they start-in on the mini-bar. They laugh and joke and it’s so fucking comfortable like they’ve been friends for years, both on a parallel path but never having met; same cities, same towns, conferences, and hotels. 

Louis comes back from the bathroom, wobbly on his legs from all the booze. Not that it’s any kind of deterrent as he grabs another two small bottles of alcohol from the fridge, twisting the tops off as he sits down. “Is it, like,  _ strange _ that we’ve never run into each other?”

Harry chuckles, dropping fresh ice cubes into their glasses as Louis pours in the amber liquid. “Was just thinking the same thing. I mean, like, we were even at the same conference last month but attended different sessions.”

“And then I went to bed early with the flu,” Louis says as he swirls the ice in his glass, feeling quite a bit more than tipsy. “And the month before that we stayed at the same hotel but I checked out the day you arrived.”

“S’weird,” Harry drawls out. “Lou?” Harry whines, the nickname having crept into their conversations about an hour ago, the result of too much booze and familiarity.

“Yes, Haz,” Louis responds, this nickname thing works both ways after all and Harry blushes and giggles.

“I’m pissed.”

Louis barks out a laugh, his whole body shaking, ice clinking in his glass. “Me too.”

“Not sure I’m gonna be able to fuck you again.” Harry looks painfully sad and that simply won’t do.

“Tsok. We’ll just go for a swim to sober up. Then you can fuck me.”

Harry lolls his head around, like his it’s too heavy to hold up anymore. “You’re so smart. And pretty. Did I tell you how pretty you are? Cuz, like, you’re the prettiest boy I reckon I’ve ever seen in real life.”

“I think you’ve mentioned it like, a  _ thousand _ times already. But don’t let that stop you.”

“Well, you are. The prettiest. I like your hair and your lips and your cock and your arse, oh my  _ god _ , that arse. Oh! And your little,” Harry shifts forward, reaching out his hand, his eyes going cross-eyed as he tries to point somewhere in the middle of Louis’ face. “Your little, cute, tiny, button… nose,” Harry finishes and boops Louis on the end of his nose. Under normal circumstances, Louis would have laid out anyone who did that to him with a swift punch, but instead, he just giggles. This is Harry, after all. He’s kind and lovely and sweet and he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, Louis freely admits he has quite the boopable nose.

A notification goes off on Harry’s laptop, interrupting their current playlist. Louis looks toward the blurry screen. “Ohhhhh what’s that?” 

“Hmmmmm… Facebit, no… Bookface, no… ugh, Facebook. Ha! Nailed it.”

“Good job, love,” Louis says and pats Harry’s thigh. “Let’s have at it then. What’s Facebook got to say?”

Harry clicks through the notification and squints his eyes. “Someone sent me a thing, with a link. It’s uhm… hang on.” Harry taps on the trackpad and a webpage opens.

Harry clears his throat and straightens his shoulders, concentration on his face. “Go off the grid for six months as a lighthouse keeper in Tasmania,” he reads from the article in a ridiculous announcer's voice. “Tasmania Parks and Wildlife Service is looking for two new employees to man a lighthouse on a remote island for six months. The duo will live on Matta, Matsuka, shit, I can’t say it. Wait. Maa-tsu-y-ker Island, six miles off the coast of Tasmania, for six months with the only way in and out via helicopter. It’s either a horror film in the making… or a beautiful career opportunity…”

Louis gasps. “Get the fuck out, it does  _ not _ say that.”

Harry giggles. “See for yourself.” He turns the screen so Louis can get a better look and yes, that’s exactly what the headline says. Louis blinks his eyes clear of the alcohol-induced fog and takes over reading. “ The employees will live in Australia’s southernmost lighthouse and must be self-sufficient, maintaining the grounds, buildings, and equipment on the island and sending regular weather reports to the Bureau of Meteorology. If flashbacks to  _ The Shining _ aren’t going off in your head, applications are open now.”

They sit in silence for a while, neither man moving an inch. Louis lets the information settle in his fuzzy brain. Six months, at the bottom of the fucking planet. No hotels, no clients, no conferences. He’d thought about taking a break but this is surely insane, or maybe it’s the smartest thing he’s ever considered. It’s not forever, just half a year, and it would certainly be an adventure. He scrolls to the application form link at the end of the article and stops, thumb hovering over the trackpad. 

“Do it,” Harry says softly from beside him. “It’s not like we’ll get picked. I mean, go on, what’s the harm?”

“The  _ harm _ , Harry Styles, is that we  _ might _ get picked and we have jobs and lives and responsibilities,” Louis chides.

“Do we though? Really? Dunno about you, but it’s been years since I’ve had a life.”

Harry’s right, is the thing. Louis hasn’t had a life for longer than he’d care to admit. But this is huge. On the off chance they do get picked he can’t just up and quit his job and go off on some adventure with a veritable stranger. He has a plan, a carefully laid out plan for his financial future.  _ Financial… _ the word swims in his head. He’s so used to rattling it off he’s convinced himself that’s all that matters. But what comes after that? Once he’s earned enough to retire, what then? Settle down? Get a dog? Find a partner? Does he even know how to do that anymore? Is that what he even wants?

Harry’s hand comes to rest over Louis’ and Louis turns to look at him. Harry’s eyes are big and green and full of an honesty he’s not used to seeing up this close. Life is all about living, that’s what he’s always believed, but he isn’t living, he’s stuck in a boring job with the years passing him by in a blur.

Louis sucks in a breath and nods his head. Harry smiles and pushes Louis’ thumb down and they turn to look at the screen as the application form loads.

“Are we crazy, Lou?” Harry whispers.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, we’re gonna need more booze,” Harry announces and gets to his feet, knocking his knee into the coffee table with a thud and a curse.

“Careful there Bambi, can’t be injured if we’re gonna go run a lighthouse at the arse end of the earth.”

Harry turns and smirks at him as he opens the mini-bar and grabs two more bottles of liquid courage or maybe it’s liquid foolishness, either way, they’re really doing this.

The application is pretty simple, disturbingly flimsy in its need for actual details. They both meet all the medical and physical requirements and with Louis’ background in mechanics and Harry’s in carpentry, they easily satisfy the experience aspect. They’re both financially stable enough to be able to support themselves because of course,  _ job _ had been a tenuous term, there’s no actual paycheck with this gig. Louis wonders how many other applicants will be put off by that. The entire process seems too easy for such a monumental undertaking and in fifteen minutes they’re done.

“You ready?” Harry asks, cursor already over the submit button.

“Yeah, send it off. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Harry hits submit and it fires into the void. “No going back.”

Louis sits and stares at the screen like something is going to happen, which it isn’t. The notes had said they wouldn’t be making a decision for at least two weeks. “What do we do now?”

Harry stands up and holds out his hand. “Now, my dear Louis, we swim,” he says as he pulls Louis to his feet.

“Swim? Seriously?”

“Mhmmmm…” Harry answers and pulls Louis in, laying a soft kiss on his lips. “Swim first to sober up, then we’re gonna come back here so I can fuck you again.”

“I like your style.”

“I like your arse,” Harry responds, sliding his hands down and grabbing a double handful.

Louis squawks and swats Harry in the chest before walking off to find some towels, swaying his hips exaggeratedly earning a groan from the man behind him.


	2. The Leap Of Faith

Harry wanders out of the clinic into the dreary Cardiff afternoon, grey skies and a howling wind doing nothing to lighten his mood. He should be happy, his sales targets are met and he’ll be sure of a good bonus this month to add to his bank balance, but he’s having a hard time feeling anything other than miserable. It’s just all the fucking same. Day in, day out. Different faces and places but the same story. Plaster on that winning smile and sell, sell, sell.

He gets into his Audi SUV, one of the luxuries he allows himself. He spends so much goddamn time on the road, he’d decided being frugal shouldn’t be his priority for once. It guzzles diesel like there’s a hole in the tank but he deserves a bit of comfort.

The road is jammed with evening traffic, everyone racing off with somewhere to be. Harry pulls off into a shopping centre parking lot to grab some dinner and something for breakfast tomorrow. His hotel mini-fridge won’t allow for much, but there will be space for some fruit and bagels at least. He grabs some noodles from a Thai place on his way out and heads for his hotel for the night.

The accommodation is the same as most nights, bland and devoid of life but well-appointed in a reassuringly predictable way. This one has a gym and indoor pool which is always nice. He drops his bag onto the luggage rack and thinks back to the last time he swam in a hotel pool, his mind going immediately to bright blue eyes and a lilting laugh. _Louis._

He hasn’t heard from him, not that he’d really expected to. It was a fantastic night but maybe it was a little too good. Neither of them is in a position to start anything serious after all but he’d kind of hoped he’d made a friend at least. Harry had left his business card when he’d quietly snuck out in the morning, needing to get back on the road no matter how enticing a sleeping Louis still laid out in his bed was. That was three weeks ago now and there’s been no contact so Harry has chalked it up to a great night and nothing more. It’s a shame, but he understands the lives they’re both leading and there’s no hard feelings. If they run into each other again he’s sure they’ll have a great time. He hasn’t heard anything about the remote lighthouse keepers job, assuming there were too many applicants and theirs was less than suitable. It’s pretty unprofessional not to have gotten in contact to at least let him know but it was such a crazy idea maybe the entire thing was an alcohol-induced fever dream.

He gets changed and sets up his laptop on the desk, firing up the latest episode of The Good Place on Netflix as he eats his take-out for one. The story is ridiculous and they probably should've ended it a season ago, but it’s still an enjoyable enough way to spend some time. 

He sees an email notification slide across the top of his screen and he lays his fork down, clicking over to his gmail account. The message sitting in the top of his inbox makes him nearly choke on his mouthful of food. It’s from Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife. The application. _Fuck_.

Harry sits and stares at it for a moment considering what he wants it to say before he opens it. On the one hand, he wants it to be a rejection. His life might be boring as all hell but he’s on track and doing well. On the other hand, he needs a change, desperately, even if only for a brief period. He’s tired and his life is stale. He needs something to break the monotony, to make him feel alive again. 

He takes a steadying breath and clicks on the email. 

_Dear Mr Styles,_

_Thank you for your interest in taking up the position of a Remote Lighthouse Keeper for six months on Maatsuyker Island. We have reviewed your application in conjunction with Mr Louis Tomlinson’s and are pleased to advise that your applications have been accepted._

Wait. _What?_ Harry re-reads the last sentence. His heart is rabbiting in his chest, beating against his rib cage like it wants to break free. They’ve been accepted. Harry reads on.

_The next step in the process is to participate in a Skype meeting where our Remote Management Team will explain some of the finer details about the posting and ensure you’re suitably equipped for the challenges that living in such isolation can present._

_We have scheduled your joint session for Thursday at 9am Australian time and the Skype meeting details can be found below. We appreciate that with the time zone difference this will be quite late for you, but we hope you’ll be able to accommodate the request as we’re keen to confirm your posting and get things moving as soon as possible._

_Please confirm your availability by return email and we look forward to speaking with you soon._

_Regards_

_Alex Blundell_

_Remote Management Team_

_Tasmania Parks and Wildlife_

Harry sits and stares at the screen, letting the words and implications sink in. Excitement thrums through his veins, all the possibilities rampaging around in his head; freedom, space, change, time, a break in the monotony.

Of course, it all comes to a screeching halt when he realizes that he never heard from Louis after their night together. Harry sags back into the chair, a weight of sadness washing over him. He scrubs his hands down his face, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

A far off buzzing sound filters into his consciousness. He opens his eyes and looks around for the source. His shoulder bag. He reaches over and digs into the front pocket for his phone, taking it out and staring at the screen. It’s a number he doesn’t recognize.

He swipes and answers the call. “Hi, this is Harry Styles.”

“How very professional,” the caller says through the speaker and he’d know that raspy voice anywhere.

“Lou?”

“The one and only. How’re you doing, Haz?”

“I’m good. Yeah. Surprised to hear from you.”

“Good surprised or…”

“Good. Definitely good. How are you?”

Louis chuckles down the line and Harry’s whole body relaxes. “Uhm… did you just get an email?”

“I’m looking at it now. I’m…”

“Shocked?”

“Could say that yeah. You?”

“Glad I was sitting down when it came through,” Louis says, a hint of nerves in his tone. “Figured we weren’t being considered as it’d been three weeks. Or that the entire thing was a-“

“Fever dream?” Harry finishes for him.

Louis laughs airily. “Yeah, something like that.” There’s a long pause and Harry worries about what Louis is going to say next. Is he going to dismiss the entire thing, explain that it was just the alcohol that made him do it and now he wants to back out? “So. How was your day?”

Oh. Small talk. Okay, Harry can do small talk, he makes a bloody living out of it after all. “Good. Yeah. Saw some nice people and made my sales targets for the month. So yeah, good.” He’s lying through his teeth but what’s the point? Surely Louis doesn’t want to hear about his miserable day, trudging to appointment after appointment before coming back to his bland hotel room with take-out Thai for one.

Louis sighs. “You wanna try that again?”

“What?”

“How. Was. Your. Day? The truth this time.”

Harry closes his eyes, takes a long breath and lets his shoulders slump. “It was shit. I hate every new day more than the last, I wake up every morning with a sense of dread for the day ahead and go to sleep every night wishing I had a different life. How was your day?”

“Fucking awful.”

Harry opens his eyes and smiles. “Does it make me a horrible person if I say I’m really happy to hear that?”

Louis barks out a laugh. “Yes, Harold. It does.”

Harold? That’s new. He instantly decides he likes it. “What are you saying, Lou?”

“That I’m tired of feeling like this. That I don’t want every day to make me want to scream and tear my hair out. That a healthy bank balance is all well and good but it’s worth nothing if I’m not actually _living_.”

Harry nods to himself. He gets it. He really does. And at this moment there’s nothing more he wants in the whole world than to take up this offer for the adventure of a lifetime with Louis. “Soooo…. wanna go live on an island at the bottom of the planet for six months with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do,” Louis says, the smile evident in his voice.

“Shit. So we’re really gonna do this? Quit our jobs and just… disappear?”

“Mhmmmm… can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

“Wow…” Harry gets up, feeling the urge to move around. “This is _massive_ , Lou.” He goes over to the window and drags the curtains back only to be met with a view of another grey building opposite.

“Feels right though. Doesn’t it?”

Harry snaps the curtains shut again and looks around his hotel room. Bland. So fucking bland. “Yeah. It does. It really does.”

“Alright. We should reply to the emails and then, I dunno, like start getting our affairs in order?”

Harry giggles and shakes his head as he sits back down in front of his laptop. “We’re not _dying_.”

“Well, our old lives kinda are.”

“How very morbid of you,” Harry says as he hits reply on the email and starts typing, phone held between his ear and shoulder.

“You replying?”

“Yeah. Just confirming the Skype call.”

“Okay. I’ll do the same,” Louis says and the sounds of typing fill Harry’s ears while his brain is a whirlwind of planning and lists and things he’ll have to do. Louis chuckles. “I can hear you planning from here, you know. Your brain is really loud.”

“Lots to think about, I guess.”

“Are you really sure about this?”

“Yup!” Harry replies quickly. “Never been this sure about anything else before,” he confirms, a little surprised at how much he means it.

The silence stretches out and Harry is about to fill the emptiness when Louis speaks. “Uhm… so, I’m sorry I didn’t call. I should’ve. I was just…” he sighs and there’s a heaviness in his tone. “I just didn’t know what to say. We had such a good night-“

“We did. I enjoyed some aspects of it _quite_ a lot,” Harry can feel the smirk in his own words.

“Mmmm… me too. I guess I just… I didn’t want us to start down a road when neither of us was in a position to really make a go of it. It wouldn't have been fair. Not to me, or you.”

Harry sighs and he knows Louis is right. “Yeah. I get you. It’s just… what does this mean for the trip? Do we just pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Start over, you mean?”

“Yeah. Like, we’ve got six months to get to know each other. Maybe we clean-slate the whole thing and start fresh, as friends? Then see where it goes.”

“You’re awfully pragmatic.”

“I think we both are. I mean, look where we are. We’re in our early thirties and each of us is only a few years from retirement. If we were impetuous and flighty we wouldn't be in this position.”

“Pragmatic _and_ smart. Helluva combo,” Louis says with a chuckle.

“Pragmatic and smart and so keen for this adventure that I feel like I’m gonna burst out of my skin. If we’re done with the serious chat can we be excited now? Please?”

Louis laughs, full-throated and joyous. “Fuck yes, we can!”

“Lou! Six months on an island at the end of the Earth!”

“I _know_ , Haz. Oh my god. I nearly combusted when I saw the email. No more dreary meetings and conferences.”

“No more grey skies and miserable days on the road,” Harry adds.

“No more suits!”

“No more hotels!” Harry shouts as they both erupt into fits of laughter. 

They stay on the phone for hours talking about what the trip will entail. Harry showers as Louis shouts down the phone at him over the noise of the spray and Louis considerately mutes his end of the call while he takes a shit. They share cups of tea and eventually crawl into their respective beds, tired but too excited to sleep. Louis tells him about his passion for writing and Harry shares his love of photography.

When Harry wakes up at three in the morning for a piss, phone on the pillow beside his head, he can hear Louis snuffling softly on the other end of the line.

~~~~

Harry loads his luggage into the Uber and climbs into the back seat, mentally running over his last-minute list and triple-checking he’s got his passport. The driver sets off and Harry settles back into his seat, shooting off a text to Louis to let him know he’s on his way. He gets a string of thumbs-up emojis and a plane taking off in response. He smiles to himself and pockets his phone, turning to look out of the window. 

The Skype call had gone well, all things considered. Hearing that they were selected from more than fifty other applicants had been a bit overwhelming; their ages, trade qualifications and generally being financially stable and settled in their lives having played the biggest parts in the successful selection. It had been an information overload. Details of the location and isolation, work they’ll be required to do to maintain the lighthouse, and other plant and equipment, had taken up the majority of their one-hour session.

The Remote Management Team seemed lovely. Super enthusiastic, dedicated to their jobs, and forthcoming in their open and honest responses to Harry and Louis’ questions of which there had been _a lot_. By the end of the call Harry was one hundred percent on board and so was Louis.

He and Louis had texted back and forth for two days before the call. Banter interspersed with serious conversations about their upcoming adventure. The easy friendship that had started on the night they met developed rapidly and Harry can’t remember a time when he’s connected so well with someone. 

They have so much in common, is the thing. Similar upbringings and schooling, both going into a trade and then ditching them to chase financial security. Neither of them has had much luck in the boyfriend department either; Harry’s longest relationship of two years just beating out Louis’ at eighteen months. Their tastes in music and movies and books aren’t completely aligned, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Once everything was locked in, they had both handed in their resignations, their respective bosses were devastated at the losses but life moves on and neither of them regretted it for even a second.

The following three weeks had been a whirlwind but Harry had taken it all in his stride, brimming with excitement and eagerness for it to begin. He’d packed up the little flat he keeps in Manchester and registered it with a local estate agency, putting his things in storage. His taxes have been prepared as far as he can for now and has redirected his mail to a service that will bulk send it to the island once a month via Alex in the Remote Management Team.

When they’d booked their flights, they’d both opted for premium economy rather than straight-up cattle-class after deciding that they could easily afford the extra cost and wanted a bit of comfort on the long-haul flights from London to Melbourne. From there it’ll be a domestic flight to Hobart, the capital city of Tasmania, and then a helicopter ride to the island, both being arranged for them as part of the posting.

Working out what to pack was an adventure in itself. They were warned to be prepared for all weather conditions, with high rainfall and extreme winds from the Antarctic buffeting the island, as well as warmer weather coming from the Australian mainland too. They need to be fairly self-sufficient and although there are food and supply drops every two weeks, they will be living a fairly rustic life. During their Skype call, Alex had regaled them with stories of previous caretaker couples who had been completely shell-shocked by the entire experience and had to be choppered out when it all got too much. Harry and Louis had assured him that they were made of sturdier stuff and would manage just fine.

The accommodations have been described as basic, at best, but there is power from the diesel generator and solar panels, and they’re also trialling a wind turbine. There are two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and a small kitchen. They’ll need to bring their own bedding and any other creature comforts they can fit in their luggage so Harry had packed carefully.

The island also has satellite internet as of last year, not suitable for streaming, but enough for general usage, so they’ll need to bring entertainment on external hard drives. Harry had suggested board games but Louis had offered up that he was well-known for being supremely competitive and that he’d prefer not to have to murder Harry in his sleep, he’d get lonely after all.

The Uber comes to a stop in the drop off zone outside departures and Harry gets out, collecting his bags and doing a final check to make sure he hasn’t dropped anything in the car. He shoulders his duffle, laptop bag and carry-on backpack and raises the handle on his large suitcase, turning and heading toward the entrance.

He’s always loved airports. The act of embarking on a journey fills him with such excitement and there’s nothing like the smell of jet fuel to get the blood pumping.

The warm air curtain hits him as he steps inside, his suitcase rattling over the grate, the bright lights and hustle and bustle of the travellers and airport operations washing over him and bombarding his senses. 

He and Louis hadn’t arranged to meet anywhere specifically but when he looks toward the British Airways check-in counter he smiles as he spots Louis at the end of the queue scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a soft-looking pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized black hoodie, Vans on his feet, and a grey beanie on his head. He looks like a walking cuddle and Harry is really going to have to keep himself in check to stick to their friends-first agreement. 

Harry follows the path of the rope line and comes up behind Louis. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Louis turns, a smile already beaming on his face. “Well hello to you too,” he says, pocketing his phone.

Harry drops his bags to the ground and holds his arms out wide. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other since their night together and Harry hopes it isn’t awkward. His worry was clearly unwarranted as Louis dives into the hug and winds his arms around Harry’s waist.

“Hey, Haz,” he says softly into Harry’s chest.

Harry pulls him in closer, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Hey, Lou.”

They hold on for a few beats longer than a normal greeting but Harry figures they've earned it, it’s a crazy adventure they’re going on, after all. They’ll be each other’s only source of comfort and affection for six months so it’s reassuring to know that Louis is as tactile as Harry.

Louis draws back and smiles, eyes crinkling. “Ready to do this?”

“Absolutely. Bring it on,” Harry holds out his hand for a fist bump, possibly the first one of his adult life.

Louis looks at the offered fist and tilts his head, giggles falling from his lips. “Are we seventeen?”

He knows it’s ridiculous but he’s literally put it out there now so he’s not backing down. “Don’t leave me hangin’, Lou.”

Louis rolls his eyes and bumps his knuckles against Harry’s. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Harry nudges him with his hip. “So you’ve said.”

The line moves up and they shuffle their gear in tandem, Harry sliding his along the ground with his foot. 

“I like this whole…” Louis waves a hand around at Harry, “...laid back look. Suits you.” Harry always likes to dress down and for comfort above all else on long trips. His black sweatpants are topped with a blue hoodie which hides his long-sleeved t-shirt and undershirt so he can remove or add layers during their flight depending on the cabin temperature.

“Right back at cha. The beanie is especially cute.” Harry tugs on the side for emphasis.

“You saying I’m cute?”

“If the beanie fits!” Harry chuckles at his own joke and Louis groans.

“How have you managed to keep your woeful dad jokes hidden from me until we’re literally standing in a queue to fly to the other side of the Earth to be trapped together, alone, for six months?”

“Stop it. You love my sense of humour.”

Louis tilts his chin up. “Hmmmm… maybe,” he replies haughtily. “So... did you bring the board games? Am I gonna be forced to murder you in your sleep?”

Harry squeezes his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger in faux concentration. “Hmmm… I _may_ have managed to find space for a couple of classics.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Louis says and pokes him in the chest. “You’re going down, Styles.”

“We’ll see. I’ll have you know I’m quite the competitive little shit when it comes to scrabble.”

“You know I love to write, yeah?”

“Just because you love to write doesn’t mean you’ve cornered the market on the use of the English language.”

Louis huffs out a breath and scrunches up his face. “Still gonna wipe the floor with you.”

“Awwww… such big talk from such a tiny kitten. S’cute,” Harry says and boops Louis on the nose patronisingly.

Louis swipes at him, slapping his hand away. “Oi!”

Harry laughs, feeling the fondness spread over his face. “This is going to be so much fun. I’m so glad I’m doing this with you.”

“Me too.”

They check-in for their flight and are able to get a window and aisle seat together in the more spacious premium economy cabin. It’ll definitely be worth the extra cash not to have people climbing over them throughout the trip. They’ve got a short, ninety-minute layover in Singapore before the second leg of their journey to Melbourne and then another two hour stop before heading to Hobart. All up they’re in for an arduous thirty hours or so of travel between London and the island.

The duty-free is pretty pointless because they don’t want to add to their carry-on but they wander around for an hour until their stomachs protest and they find the food court. The conversation flows freely and when it doesn’t, the lulls aren’t at all awkward. The last few weeks of phone calls and constant texting has allowed their friendship to develop easily, it’s still new and exciting and Harry has found himself liking Louis more and more as he gets to know him. He’s so smart and level-headed and funny and kind, always ready with a sassy quip or sensible advice depending on what the situation requires.

They head to the gate with thirty minutes to spare and settle down to wait for their section to be called. Louis makes up little backstories for the other passengers; where they’re going, why, what they’re running to or away from. He’s hilarious and has Harry in fits of laughter as he whispers into his ear or texts him if he risks being overheard. Harry sees how he’d be a good writer. His imagination really is on a whole other level.

Boarding the plane is quick and relatively painless and they’re both pleasantly surprised at how much extra space they have in premium economy. It’s a small section, with around forty seats in a two-three-two configuration just behind business class. Harry and Louis have one of the two-seat set-ups in the second row far away from cattle-class. They breathe a sigh of relief when they realise they don’t have any small children near them. Harry loves kids, but just not on long-haul flights.

The flight attendant comes around with glasses of champagne and orange juice and some warm towelettes. It’s all very civilized really.

As the plane taxis out onto the runway, they discover that they both enjoy the take-off, the speed and exhilaration as they lift off onto the air, stomachs swooping as they’re pressed back into their seats.

The lights of London spread out beneath them, quickly becoming pinpricks on the darkened Earth. Harry watches out of the window and feels that familiar excitement in his bloodstream.

Louis leans over into Harry’s space, elbow on the armrest. “Let the adventure begin,” he says reverently.

Harry turns his head and their eyes meet, nothing but joy and hope staring back at him. “Yeah, let the adventure begin.”

~~~~

It turns out Louis is an absolute joy to fly with. Not that Harry had any serious concerns, but you never really know how it’s going to pan out until you're trapped next to someone for hours on end. They’ve watched movies on their own, chatted over meals, listened to music together and napped for a few hours here and there. 

They touch down in Hobart and head through the airport, grabbing Australian SIM cards for their phones from a shop on the way. Alex is due to meet them in arrivals to take them to the heliport a short drive away for their transfer to the island, their final destination and home for the next six months. They’re both tired but are letting the adrenaline and caffeine do their jobs to keep them awake. Time zones are so strange. Having left on Wednesday evening and travelled for twenty-eight hours, it’s now somehow Friday morning, passing over the dateline somewhere during their trip and skipping forward in time. 

The baggage claim is fairly quiet, Hobart airport not exactly being an international hub. As they wait for their luggage to appear, Alex comes up behind them, slapping them both on the shoulders. “Morning guys, welcome to Tassie!”

Harry spins around, startled. “Hey, Alex. Nice to meet you in person, man,” he says holding out his hand. Alex shakes it and turns to Louis, giving him the same warm smile and welcome.

“Alex, mate. Great to see you again,” Louis says happily, taking Alex’s offered hand.

“How was the trip?”

“Long,” they both say in unison and chuckle.

“Mhmmmm… warned you this was the arse end of the Earth.”

“But what a nice arse it is,” Louis says with a smirk and waves his hand around. 

Alex quirks a brow and nods. “Reckon you’re gonna do fine with that sense of humour. And yeah, Tassie is a pretty special place.”

He’s shorter than Harry had imagined, exuding confidence in his khaki-green uniform and sturdy brown boots, sunglasses slid back into his hair, and tanned complexion hinting at a life spent in the outdoors. Harry notices their bags coming around on the carousel and taps Louis on the arm. They grab a trolley and load up their bags, heading off behind Alex.

“You always lived here then?” Harry asks as they make their way out into the daylight. 

Alex glances over his shoulder. “Yup! Moved to the mainland for a few years after school to spread my wings a bit, didn’t last long though. My family is all here so it was always where I was going to end up. Met my wife, Olivia, at uni and we decided to move back here after we got married. She’s from here too so it made sense to have a support network for when the rugrats came along.”

“You got kids?” Louis asks as Harry steers their trolley into the car park.

“Yeah. Grace is eleven and Amos is eight. Handfuls, both of them, but brilliant too. This is us,” Alex says and motions towards a massive white 4WD with the Tasmanian National Parks and Wildlife logo emblazoned on the side. 

“Nice ride,” Harry comments as he brings the trolley to a halt at the rear.

“Yeah. Gotta do a lot of off-roading with the job so they make sure we’ve got the right gear.” Alex pops the boot and Harry and Louis load their luggage into the back as Alex fires up the engine. They climb into the back seat and Alex turns to grin at them. “Feel like a proper chauffeur up here.”

“Onwards please driver,” Harry says with his best posh English accent. “To the heliport!”

Alex waits for a beat, looking between them both. “You guys are going to do well. I can feel it.”

“We’re really glad you picked us,” Louis says, a serious tone in his voice.

“Yeah. Thanks for giving us this opportunity, for taking a chance on us,” Harry adds.

Alex turns back around and eases the car out of the parking spot. “Hmmmm… I hope you’re still as pleased when it’s five below, there’s a gale-force wind blowing off the Antarctic, and the supply chopper can’t land so you’re stuck with microwave Mac’n’Cheese for the fourth night in a row.”

“I _love_ Mac’n’Cheese!” Louis says cheekily earning chuckles from Alex and Harry.

Harry watches Alex in the rear-view mirror, a smile spreading from ear to ear as they head out into the main road. “Yeah, you guys are gonna do just fine.”

~~~~

The Tasmanian landscape is green and luscious, not unlike home, just with a lot more sunshine and a lot less traffic. Harry retrieves his sunglasses from his backpack and slides them over his weary eyes. He feels pretty gross, the long flights having taken their toll and he’d very much like to scrape the airplane off of himself. He winds down the window to let the breeze caress his face. It’s cool but not cold, refreshing on his clammy skin. Louis shivers beside him and tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“Too cold?”

“Nah, I’m okay. It’s nice,” Louis says and swallows a yawn. “Tired, Haz.”

“Me too. Won’t be long now.” Harry pats him on the thigh and earns a sweet smile.

Alex pipes up from the front seat. “We’ll be at the heliport in five. We’ve got some supplies to load up but I’m hoping it’s mostly done, then it’s around thirty minutes in the chopper to the island. I’ll show you around and get you settled in and then you’re on your own.”

“When did the last caretakers leave?” Harry asks curiously.

“A week ago. Lovely older couple from Norway. It was their third rotation actually.”

“Frequent flyers, nice,” Louis offers.

Alex chuckles. “Yeah. They’re golden. We’ve got a few couples like that. Makes it easy.”

“You mean not having to break in new people like us?” Harry offers with a smirk.

“Nah, I don’t mind. It’s a beautiful place and such an amazing experience. Always keen to share it with as many people as possible. I love it there. The isolation, the simplicity, the wildlife. It’s like a little holiday,” he says with a chuckle as he turns at the heliport sign and drives down the tree-lined dirt road. “I’ve been there for the last week, actually, sorting out a few things, getting it ready for your arrival. It has to be constantly manned so one of the other guys, Tim, is there now waiting for us.”

They break through the trees and into a clearing, revealing a grassed field with a shed sat in the middle and a gravel car park in front. There’s a fence running off either side and a windsock rising high into the air. There are a few small helicopters, probably only big enough for two people each and another, much larger one like Harry has seen the army use, doors on both sides open with crates stacked high on the tarmac beside it.

“That our ride?” Harry asks as Alex brings the car to a stop near the fence.

“Yup!” Alex says as he cuts the engine. “Just gotta load her up then we can head off.”

Louis stretches his arms out and yawns again, covering his mouth with a sweater-pawed hand. It’s all kinds of adorable and Harry wants to wrap him up in his arms and cuddle him to sleep. He decides that would be detrimental to their progress and also, he’s not supposed to do that, because _friends_ , he scolds himself internally.

“Come on, Lou. Let’s go.”

Louis sighs. “Fuck. So tired, Haz. Feel like I’m in a daze.”

“S’not long now, then you can have a cuppa and a nap on the island, yeah?”

“Mmmmm… nap,” Louis says sleepily and opens his door, jumping down out of the 4WD onto the gravel beneath. Harry follows suit and goes around the boot to meet Alex who is already unloading some of their gear. Harry hoists their duffles onto one shoulder and grabs their laptop bags in one hand as Louis drags the two suitcases out onto the ground with a thud. They make their way through the gap in the fence and straight out onto the tarmac, the helicopter seeming far more imposing up close.

Another man comes jogging toward them from the shed, dressed much the same as Alex, aviators on his face looking every bit the pilot Harry assumes he is.

“Hey, Alex,” he says in greeting.

“Hey, mate. This is Harry and Louis, our new caretakers,” Alex says by way of introductions, motioning between them. “Guys, this is Grant. He’s gonna drop us off on the island.”

They all exchange handshakes and greetings. “Alright. Let’s get this tin can loaded up and we can get on our way,” Grant says as he claps his hands together and takes the duffles from Harry, throwing them up onto the floor of the chopper. Harry does the same with the laptop bags, and their backpacks, although with a little more care, and then helps Louis with the suitcases.

Grant jumps up inside and starts securing the luggage with straps threaded through rings embedded in the floor. 

“You boys right to give us a hand with these?” Alex asks, pointing to the crates and a few large canvas bags.

“Sure. These our supplies?” Louis asks as he and Harry lift one of the crates and Alex starts chucking the canvas bags up to Grant who catches them with practised ease.

“Yeah,” Alex confirms. “Should be enough to get you through the first two weeks until the next drop. Food, plus the supplies you’ll need for the list of maintenance jobs you’ve got to get started on.”

“And I thought this was a _holiday_ ,” Louis whines, playing it up for his audience of three.

“Yeah. The brochure was all cocktails and sunsets and spa days. Alex. I want my money back,” Harry adds, getting in on the act, arms crossed over his chest, and bottom lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout.

Alex and Grant both snort. “You guys are gonna do well,” Grant chuckles.

“That’s what I keep saying!” Alex says through his laughter.

They finish loading the gear and all climb up into the helicopter. Alex sorts out their headsets, getting them settled into their seats beside the window, and checking their harnesses. Grant closes the doors on each side and takes up his position in the pilot’s seat, Alex riding shotgun.

The engine starts, vibrations thrumming through Harry’s body. He looks up to Louis, sitting opposite him, a gleeful smile on his face and Harry finds himself mirroring the expression. 

“This is so fucking sick, Haz,” Louis says through the headset, staticky and booming in his ears.

Harry giggles and nods in agreement, feeling like a big kid about to go over the crest of a roller coaster. Grant works through a few checks, talking through them and asking for an okay to go from all three passengers. Harry’s smile is about to split his face in two and he can barely contain his excited anticipation. He’s been on a couple of joy rides before, but nothing like this, this is a far more serious machine; big and raw and purposeful. 

They lift off, the nose staying lower as the rear drags them up into the air, hovering over the tarmac and looming down at the ground as it spins around. Harry keeps his gaze fixed on Louis whose eyes are practically bugging out of his head, knees clenched tight, holding his backpack in place between his feet, and a broad smile plastered on his face.

The helicopter rises higher into the air and then they’re off. It’s so different to a plane, no jostling or sharp moves, seemingly gliding through the air. They fly over the treetops, the Earth growing smaller with every moment. Harry reaches inside his backpack and takes out his camera, sliding the safety strap around his wrist. He takes a couple of shots of the cabin, sure his tired brain will fail to commit the whole experience to memory. Louis is looking out of the window as the world whizzes by, wide-eyed in wonder. He’s gorgeous, absolutely fucking gorgeous; sharp cheekbones accentuated by his beanie and the bulky headset. Harry can’t help but snap a few pictures. The camera loves him, every shot more stunning than the last. Louis must sense he’s being photographed and turns, quirking a brow before pulling a silly face. Harry presses on the button again, because why not?

Louis just laughs at him and points to the window. “Out there, Haz.”

“The view in here is just as nice,” Harry replies with a smirk. 

Louis rolls his eyes fondly. “You’re an idiot.”

Harry shrugs. “Maybe so, but the camera wants what the camera wants.” He takes another picture just because he can and Louis pokes out his tongue before turning back to watch the view below them.

Harry does start capturing images out the window, it’s hard not to, the scenery is breathtaking. Soon they’re over the water, hugging the coastline, towering cliffs and small bays against the backdrop of the rolling green hills beyond. The sun is glinting off the deep green ocean, it doesn’t seem real, like Harry has dreamed it up.

It’s not just the scenery though, all of this, everything, is so surreal, so fanciful. Is he truly here? Has he really travelled to the other side of the globe, about to spend six months alone on an island with the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on? A few weeks ago he would’ve scoffed at the suggestion, buried in his boring existence, one day blurring into the next, no plans for the future other than financial stability. But here he is, in a helicopter, hurtling toward a lighthouse on the farthest tip of civilization with no plan for what happens next. It’s exciting, and a little bit terrifying if he’s being honest. But it also feels right, so fucking right. Like his entire life has been leading to this moment, preparing him, setting him up with the skills and means to drop off the end of the Earth and into this crazy adventure.

“And here she is, boys,” Alex’s voice crackles through the headset twenty minutes into their flight as the helicopter dips to one side and the island comes into view. “Welcome to Maatsuyker.”

“Amazing,” Louis says in awe and Harry catches his gaze, wonderment in his crystal blue eyes and Harry can’t help the smile that he beams back at him. 

Harry had checked out photos and videos of the island online with Louis during one of their many phone calls. They’d found a few Instagram accounts and Facebook pages from people who had visited the island, even stumbling across one couple who had been previous caretakers, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing it in person. It’s stunning; imposing cliffs, jagged rock faces, pounding waves, lush low-lying vegetation cloaking the hills, and the lighthouse, stark white against the blue and green backdrop, sitting proudly at one end.

Grant does a full loop of the island, giving them a birds-eye view of their home for the next six months. Any illusions Harry may have been entertaining about the isolation being less than described quickly fading away. 

They come in for a soft landing and Grant cuts the engine. The cottage they’ll be staying in is only a short distance away and while it’s small and weathered, it looks homely. A few steps lead up to a verandah along the front, a water tank at the side, and solar panels on the roof. The wind turbine is back up the hill, the strong wind powering the blades, and a pathway leads down toward the lighthouse on the edge of the cliff. A man, who Harry assumes is Tim, is standing on the verandah, rugged up in a thick jacket to ward off the elements.

Grant and Alex jump down out of the helicopter as Harry and Louis take off their headsets and unbuckle their harnesses. Grant opens the side door nearest to where they’re sitting, the cold air flooding the cabin, carried in on the strong wind. “Home sweet home, boys,” he says and jumps up inside between them to start unhooking the secured cargo.

Tim comes down and introduces himself and they all work together to unload the crates and bags, trudging up the hill and dumping everything onto the verandah. 

“Come on, I’ll show you guys around the cottage, then we can take a tour of the island,” Alex offers and opens the door to the cottage. 

“After you,” Harry says to Louis with a wave of his hand and a small bow. “Age before beauty.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, you’re like five minutes younger than me.”

“Excuse you, _old man_ , your memory must be failing you in your twilight years. I’m two whole years younger than you.”

Louis treads on his toes and swats him in the chest as he passes by and Harry supposes he’s deserving of the reaction. Harry trails him inside regardless, the warmth from the fire enveloping him as he steps over the threshold.

The room they enter is compact and cozy. There’s a small circular dining table with four chairs in the centre, a desk under the window, and a three-seater lounge and an armchair positioned around the potbelly fire on one side. Off to the other side is a kitchen running along the wall, a bench with an inlaid sink, some cupboards above, a freestanding stove and cooktop, and a fridge-freezer at the end.

Beams of light stream through the windows, dust particles hanging in the air and swirling as they’re broken by the bodies passing through them.

“So this is your living area, pretty basic, but you’ll be comfortable here with the fire going,” Alex says as he leads through a doorway and down a short hallway to the two bedrooms and bathroom. “There are bar heaters in both bedrooms and the bathroom as well. You’ll definitely want to use them because it gets really bloody cold at night.”

“Good tip, thanks. This is so awesome, Alex,” Louis says as they peer in through the open doors.

“Yeah. It’s really lovely,” Harry adds and he means it. The cottage might be small, but it’s exactly the sort of place Harry loves. He doesn’t need fancy stuff, never has. A calmness spreads over him at the knowledge that he gets to spend the next six months tucked up in here with Louis, pottering around, taking his photos, tending to the lighthouse. It seems like heaven.

Alex chuckles. “You guys sure are easy to please. But you might change your tune when the first big storm rolls in and you have to go outside to do the weather readings.”

“It’s fine. That’ll be Harry’s job anyway,” Louis says with a smirk.

“Heeeyyy…” Harry drawls out. “I thought we were in this together. Partners in crime, the dream team, two peas in a pod.”

“Whatever you reckon, love,” Louis says and pats Harry’s shoulder, following Alex back out into the living room where Grant and Tim are bringing in the crates and canvas bags and piling them on and around the dining table. 

Alex leads them over to the desk where a laptop sits closed beside some arch-lever files. “We’ve run through most of this already, but this is where you’ll record and upload the readings from the weather station. Login details are all here,” he says pointing to a laminated sheet affixed to the desk, “and the procedures are in this folder. The satellite internet is pretty good but as you know it can be affected by the storms, so just be aware of that. Good?”

“Yup. All good,” Louis replies and Harry nods in agreement.

“Alright,” Alex says as he picks up two folders from the desk, handing one to Tim. “Louis, Tim is going to take you around and run you through all the mechanical stuff, and Harry, you can come with me. I'll show you the general maintenance work that needs doing, then we’ll meet back here and go up to the weather station together and then finish off at the lighthouse.”

Harry and Louis dig through their luggage for their winter jackets and the pairs head out into the cold wind. There’s a lot to take in and it’s all a bit overwhelming. A vegetable garden that needs tending to, a shed that’s been battered by a recent storm that requires some repairs, some paths that have become overgrown with vegetation, and a stairway with treads missing. There are a multitude of other ongoing maintenance tasks that he and Louis will have to address as well but it’s all a bit of a blur. Thankfully Alex has a detailed list and he’ll only be a call or email away should they need more information.

Harry and Alex round the cottage as Louis and Tim come into view and they make their way up to the weather station. It’s an odd contraption; a pole with a white box sitting on top, not unlike a bird box. The process is simple enough and Harry and Louis nod along as Alex runs through the procedures.

They walk back down the hill and along the pathway to the lighthouse, the sharp chill from the onshore wind biting at Harry’s face. He looks over to find Louis hunched in on himself, obviously feeling the effects just as much. 

He nudges Louis’ shoulder. “And you thought bringing the balaclavas was a stupid idea.”

“Fair play,” Louis concedes through chattering teeth. “I guess the thermal underwear and mittens weren’t such a bad idea either.”

“You’ll look ever so sexy in the thermals, Lou.”

“Bugger off, you menace,” Louis chides, hip-checking Harry and nearly sending him barreling down the hill. Harry manages to regain his footing and scurries to catch up. 

The lighthouse is imposing up close. Tall and proud, reaching up into the sky, stark white paint and glass top reflecting in the bright sunlight. Harry can already see work that needs to be done and he catalogues it away for later. They enter through the small doorway and go up the metal grate stairs that cling to the outer walls in single file. At the third floor, Alex opens a hatch and they all climb out onto the landing that rings around the structure. The wind is even more fierce up here and Harry is glad for the railing to grip onto. Louis tucks into his side, cupping his hands together and blowing warm air into them as Harry wraps his arm around him and rubs up and down to try and get the blood flowing. Considering it’s the middle of the day and the sun is shining, they’re definitely going to have to be more rugged up for the outdoors than they thought. 

Alex and Tim talk them through the lighthouse operations and point out some places of interest below. There’s a seal colony on one of the islands dotted out before them, trailing away to the south like the spikes on a submerged crocodile, and a penguin colony on another of the islands. The main shipping channel isn’t far offshore, hence the need for the lighthouse, and they spy a few container vessels in the distance.

They break into their pairs again as they head back inside, Louis and Tim going to check out the motorized beacon and Alex pointing out some urgent repairs to guttering and drainpipes. It’s not exactly carpentry, but Harry is fairly confident he’ll be fine to complete the jobs. 

By the time they make it back to the cottage, Harry is practically asleep on his feet, the time zone hopscotch taking its toll. Grant has shifted the crates and bags around and separated the essentials they’ll need to get them through the next few days while they settle in. The warmth of the fire beckons Harry closer and he and Louis stand with their backs to it, letting the cold sleep out of their bodies as Alex runs them through the last bits of information they need before the support team disappears and leaves them to their own devices. Harry is nervous, but he’s also desperate for them to go. Now that they’re here, he just wants it to be them, and them alone.

His wish is granted soon enough. “All the best guys!” Grant shouts from the doorway and he’s off with a wave to start the chopper, Tim following suit after a quick farewell.

Alex is last to go. “Right. So I think that’s everything. You gonna be okay?” He asks as he walks toward them, but he doesn’t sound concerned. Harry’s fairly sure they’ve given him enough confidence to leave them without too much worry.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be fine,” Louis assures him as he shakes his hand.

Alex turns to Harry. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna be great,” Harry says and grips onto his hand firmly.

“I have faith in you two, don’t let me down. And above all else, have fun!” Alex says as he backs away and heads for the door.

Harry and Louis follow him out and stop on the verandah, watching as the chopper lifts off, the icy winds increased in ferocity by the churning blades.

As the noise of the engine retreats into the distance and the helicopter becomes a speck on the horizon, the enormity of what they’re undertaking hits Harry like a freight train. His growing panic must be coming off him in waves and Louis turns to face him.

“Hey, it’s alright, yeah? We’re gonna be fine,” Louis says soothingly, laying his hand on Harry’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Let’s go and rustle up a cuppa and enjoy that fire for a bit.”

Harry nods, unable to get any words out for fear of bursting into tears. He doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly become so emotional but he tamps it down and follows Louis inside, shutting out the harsh cold as he closes the door.

It’s quiet in the cottage, just the buffeting winds against the windows to fill the emptiness. Louis potters about, finding them tea and a carton of long-life milk as the kettle boils. Harry stands awkwardly near the pile of stuff around the dining table, not sure of what to do with himself.

Louis eyes him warily and Harry wants to speak but he’s lost his voice. “Why don’t you pop another few logs in the fire?”

Harry stumbles forward, nearly tripping on air like a clumsy fool and kneels down in front of the fire, opening it up and adding some extra wood, before stoking it with the poker hanging on the stand. He adjusts the flue to increase the airflow and the embers flare, wisps of smoke filtering out into the room before he closes the door again. Getting to his feet he sees Louis coming over with their tea, a small smile on his face. Louis sets their tea on the coffee table and they sit down on the couch, Louis kicking off his shoes and tucking one foot under his bum, pulling a throw blanket over them both.

“Haz. Look at me,” Louis whispers softly. Harry feels like an idiot. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but when he turns, he’s met with the kindest eyes he’s ever seen. Louis looks worried though. “Are you okay, love?”

“Think I’m just tired, Lou,” he manages to get out.

“Today’s been a busy week for us.”

Harry chuckles, regaining some composure. “Yeah. What day is it again?”

“Fuck knows.” The skin at the corners of Louis’ eyes crinkles as he speaks and Harry feels himself start to relax a bit. “Sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. It’s just… a lot, you know?”

“Mhmmmm… I’m in touch with that emotion. You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

“Bit late for that now if I was.”

“Nah. We could always call it off. Run away to some tropical paradise and sip cocktails on a beach for a few weeks. Of course, Alex would probably try and murder us on the ride out of here and dump our bodies in the ocean, but I’d fancy our chances in a fight.”

Harry lolls his head on the back of the couch and rolls his eyes. “You’re a weirdo.”

“Pretty sure we’ve established that already.”

“Sorry, it just all hit me at once and I got in my head a bit.”

Louis reaches out and takes his hand. “Tsok. Reckon this’ll take a while to adjust to.”

“Do you mind if I just…” Harry shifts closer and motions towards Louis’ chest.

“Have at it.” Louis lifts his arm and Harry tucks himself underneath, kicking off his shoes, and propping his feet up on the couch. Louis’ shirt is cool on Harry’s cheek, not yet warmed from the fire, but it gives Harry a different kind of warmth, one that comes from within. Safe. Secure. Louis wraps his arm around Harry’s back and pulls him tight, tucking the blanket around them both.

“Thanks, Lou.” 

“Anytime.”

“I’m glad I’m here… with you,” Harry says on a yawn.

“Mmmm… me too.”

They snuggle together as the wind whips the cottage, but in here, warm and cozy, it can’t get them. Harry closes his eyes and lets the exhaustion pull him under, drifting off into a blissful slumber as the fire burns brightly before them.

~~~~

When Harry wakes it’s dark. His neck is stiff from the awkward angle and his stomach is grumbling. He also needs a piss, desperately. He carefully extracts himself from Louis’ hold which is a feat in and of itself. Even in his sleep, Louis isn’t keen to let him go, his vice-like grip proving difficult to break away from. He manages it eventually and pads across the wooden floors and down into the freezing cold bathroom. He’s glad he only needs to take a leak and doesn’t have to negotiate the toilet seat which he guesses would be like a block of ice. He remembers Alex’s advice and clicks on the bar heater above the mirror, the instant heat warming his back as he relieves himself.

He wanders back out into the living room and notes that it’s just gone seven o’clock but he can’t quite manage the time zone math in his bleary-eyed state to work out what time his body thinks it is. His stomach is definitely unimpressed so he flicks on the light and pokes around in the pantry, finding some microwave rice and tins of beans for their dinner. They can sort out the food situation properly tomorrow, but for now, this’ll have to do.

Louis is still sleeping soundly on the couch, legs outstretched into the space Harry had been occupying. He retrieves their mugs of tea from the coffee table, barely touched before they’d passed out and goes about making them fresh ones.

Harry chucks another couple of logs on the fire and then goes to turn on the bar heaters in both bedrooms. One is fine, but he can’t get the other one to work. He checks the power cable and the connection, but he’s no expert and doesn’t feel like getting electrocuted on their first night, so he leaves it be for now.

When he returns, Louis is sitting up, stretching his arms above his head.

“Well, hello, sleepyhead,” Harry says as he goes back to the kitchen.

“Fuck. What time is it?”

“After seven. We properly sacked out.”

“God. I feel like I’m a hundred years old. Pretty sure my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth too. Had to peel it off.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, I feel like shit too. Gotta love that jet lag.”

Louis groans as he gets off the couch and comes up beside Harry. “Look at you being all domestic.”

“Starving. Figured you would be too.”

“Mmmmm… ravenous. What’s on the menu?” Louis queries and places his hand on Harry’s lower back, rubbing it gently.

“Rice and beans,” Harry replies as he tears open the rice packets the rest of the way and tips them into two bowls. “Thought this’d be okay for tonight and we can sort stuff out tomorrow.”

“Brilliant. Just gonna pee.” Louis gives Harry’s hip a soft squeeze and then disappears down the hallway.

Harry takes their meals over to the couch, not wanting to bother with clearing off the dining table. That’ll be another job for the morning. He finishes making their tea and takes them over just as Louis comes back, fringe wet from where he’s likely splashed water on his face.

“Those bar heaters pack a bloody punch, don’t they?”

“Yeah. Thank god. Was fucking freezing when I went in there before.”

They take their seats and sip on their tea, waiting for their meals to cool down, steam rising from the bowls.

“Good that we’ve got them in the bedrooms too,” Louis says and that jogs Harry’s hazy memory.

“Oh. Actually. I went to turn them on and there’s a problem with one of them. Not sure if you wanna have a go and see if you can get it to work?”

Louis picks up his bowl and spoon. “Yeah. No worries. I’ll have a look after dinner.”

They eat in companionable silence, both too tired for conversation. After they’ve cleaned up the few dishes, they take their things into their rooms but don’t bother unpacking anything other than the essentials for the evening. 

Louis showers first while Harry sets up his laptop and finds his charges. They swap and Harry lets himself stand under the hot stream of water until the days of travelling are washed away. He feels almost human when he emerges.

“Fucking piece of shit,” Harry hears Louis grumble as he passes his bedroom. He pokes his head inside to find Louis bent over behind the low chest of drawers, arse in the air.

“Well, that’s a nice view.”

Louis startles and thumps his elbow on the wall, cursing under his breath. He whips his head around and he looks anything but happy. “Can’t get this stupid thing to work. I’ll have to see what tools we have tomorrow in the daylight. I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

“What?”

“It’s too cold to sleep in here without a heater.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Harry, it’s _freezing_ in here.”

“No, you great muppet.” Harry rolls his eyes fondly. “I mean just sleep with me.”

Louis furrows his brows. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. We said just friends.”

“You’re being obtuse. And I’ll remind you that we said just friends for _now_. Besides, we literally just slept cuddled up together for five hours on the couch. What’s the difference?” Harry finishes with a shrug. The truth is that he’d very much like nothing more than to take it further, much further, and the proximity of sharing a bed with the object of his desire isn’t exactly going to make that feeling any less prevalent, but he also doesn’t want Louis to freeze his balls off or sleep on the couch.

Louis pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in contemplation, glancing at the cold bed and up to the bar heater on the wall before letting his gaze find Harry once more. “No funny business,” he says and points a finger at Harry.

Harry laughs softly and makes a cross over his heart. “Promise. I’m too fucking tired to do anything but sleep anyway.”

Louis eyes him warily but nods anyway, glaring one last time at the offending heater before huffing out a breath.

They head into the other bedroom and Harry is suddenly very aware of how small the bed is. It’s a double, but it’s not exactly suitable for a pillow divider, so they’re not going to be able to stay out of each other’s space. 

“Preference for what side of the bed you like to sleep on?” Harry asks as he rubs his face cream into his dry skin. Air travel always dehydrates him terribly.

“You choose. I’m easy,” Louis says Harry gives him a smirk. “Oi! You know what I meant. Don’t be mean, I’m too tired to form proper thoughts.”

Harry holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, Lou. Too hard to resist when you’ve got your defences down like this. Anyway, I usually starfish in the middle, so I’ll just work around you.”

Louis sits down on the bed rubbing his hands over his eyes. “What time do we have to be up tomorrow?”

“No particular time. We’ve got to do the weather readings at lunchtime, but otherwise, I reckon we’ll just ease into it.”

“Mmmmm… sounds like a plan,” Louis says and tucks his feet under the covers, scooting down the bed and pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. 

Harry flicks off the main light, leaving them in the subdued lamplight, and sits down on the other side of the bed, plugging his phone into the charger on the bedside table. “You ready for me to turn the light off?”

”Sleepy. So… sleepy.”

Harry slides under the covers and turns off the light, the orange of the bar heater the only illumination left in the darkened space.

“So, I was thinking,” Harry says, feeling as though he needs to fill the silence.

Louis takes a few beats to respond and Harry thinks he might be asleep already. “Mmmm…?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of doing a blog.”

“S’nice.”

“Yeah, because I want to work on my photography, as you know, and I thought I could do a visual journal of sorts. Track our journey. You know, two intrepid Brits, six months on an island at the end of the Earth kind of thing. I found this blog hosting site with themes and stuff that’s free and looks pretty easy to use.”

All Harry gets in response is a low grunt, followed by Louis’ breaths evening out. Harry lays awake for a while, listening to the sound of the wind outside the bedroom window. Louis rolls over, snuggling into Harry’s side and it makes him smile. He wraps an arm around Louis’ back, a feeling of absolute calm washing over him for the first time since they arrived. 

~~~~

Five hours later Harry is once again laying awake staring at the ceiling. He’s managed a few hours of sleep but now, even though the sun is yet to rise, his internal clock hasn’t switched to Aussie time so it’s doing its own thing, much to Harry’s frustration.

The blog idea is still swirling in his head, fingers itching to get started. He sighs and reluctantly extracts himself from Louis’ hold, tucking the blankets around him like a little, warm burrito. Louis snuffles in his sleep and burrows further into the pillow. It’s harder to walk away from than it should be.

He rifles around in his bag for his Ugg boots and a warm hoodie and heads out into the cold living room. The fire has died down significantly but there are thankfully some embers left for him to coax into life with fresh logs.

A cup of tea is definitely in order so he puts the kettle on to boil while he logs into his laptop and connects to satellite internet. It’s not exactly lightning speed, but not too bad, all things considered.

He grabs the blanket from the couch for extra warmth and finishes making his tea, the hot liquid doing its job and warming him from the inside as he settles down at the small desk. 

The process to set up the blog isn’t too difficult. He picks a theme and goes about making the customizations he wants and then adds a masthead. He connects his camera and downloads the pictures he’s taken so far, pausing on the ones of Louis in the helicopter. The camera really does love him; sharp-angled cheekbones, fine wisps of hair peeking out from his beanie, cute little button nose, thin pink lips, and luscious eyelashes framing his crystal blue eyes. He’s not sure whether Louis would be comfortable having his picture included just yet, so he selects some scenery images to set the scene. 

Once he’s happy with the design he saves it and moves onto the introductory blurb. Writing really isn’t his strong point but he doubts anyone will be particularly bothered, assuming anyone reads it at all. He reads it over a few times and makes some edits before submitting the post, pushing it out into the world.

Hi and welcome to No Going Back! This blog will follow the escapades of myself, Harry Styles, and my intrepid companion on this crazy adventure, Louis Tomlinson. Two Brit’s who decided on a whim (and after far too many drinks) that our lives sucked quite a lot and were desperately in need of a change. Bored of our careers as sales reps, and having the advantage of mechanical and carpentry trades in our backgrounds, we applied to be remote lighthouse keepers for a six month stint on Maatsuyker Island off the bottom of Tasmania, Australia (aka the end of the Earth) and by some miraculous turn of events, we were accepted!

So, here we are. I thought it might be fun to record our experiences on this blog, and even if nobody reads it, it’ll be a good way to capture the journey for ourselves. I’m a big fan of photography and I’m hoping this trip will allow me to develop that passion a bit more. Also, apologies in advance, because I’m not much of a writer, but I’ll do my best!

He moves onto the first proper post. Making some notes in a google doc and creating a structured template that he can work with going forwards.

After more than thirty hours of travelling from the UK to Tasmania, we found ourselves on Maatsuyker Island, exhausted, but excited, and in desperate need of a cuppa and a nap. But that would have to wait. The team from the Tasmania Parks and Wildlife Remote Management Team apparently had other ideas.

There was so much to take in on our tour - daily tasks, repairs and maintenance works that were found on our very long to-do list, and a multitude of safety procedures - and the sleep deprivation certainly wasn’t helping with our retention levels. Thankfully the team is super professional and there are backup procedures written down for everything as well as The List. I have a sneaking suspicion this list is going to become our nemesis. 

The cottage is lovely, homely and cozy with a log burning fire that we crashed out in front of after the team left. We woke up hours later - gotta love that jet lag - and had a quick dinner before heading off to bed. Unfortunately, the aforementioned jet lag came into play again in the early hours of the morning so here I sit in the darkness, wrapped in a blanket and about three other layers of clothing, blogging away to you lovely people, whoever you might be. 

Today is going to be a busy one. Lots of unpacking and sorting through the mysterious crates and bags that came along on our helicopter ride and are now piled ominously in the living room, waiting for us to do something with them. The smart money is on the contents somehow matching up with the items on The List.

Anyway, I think I can hear Louis banging about in need of tea so I’ll sign off for now.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Harry copies the post over to the blog, adds some of the photos he’s taken of their surroundings and sends it out into the ether. He hears the toilet flush and a bleary-eyed Louis comes into the room. “Morning,” he rasps out, going straight for the fire and rubbing his hands together to warm them up.

“Did I wake you?” Harry asks as he closes the lid of his laptop and spins around fully.

“Nah. Although the bed got awfully cold when my personal heater abandoned me. Couldn't you sleep?”

“Body clock’s all off. Plus, new sounds and stuff. Should settle down in a few days though,” Harry says and makes his way over to put the kettle on.

“Shit. I wasn’t snoring was I?”

Harry shakes his head. “Nope. Just snuffling away. You’re really quite adorable when you sleep. When you’re awake too, now that I think about it.”

Louis smiles shyly which is... new. Harry hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing this barely-awake version of Louis after their original night together and he feels like he missed out. At least he’s got six months to experience it now and he secretly hopes Louis can’t manage to fix the bar heater in his own room.

They take their tea over to the couch, the early morning sun starting to stream through the window. It’s not enough to warm them, but it’s nice nonetheless.

“What’s on your list for today then?” Louis asks over the rim of his mug, fingers slightly obscuring the ‘Lighthouse Keepers Do It Better’ caption, Harry having selected the ‘Keep Calm and Shine Your Light’ mug for himself.

“Gotta do some work on the veggie garden and then there are some stair treads that need some attention. You?”

“The diesel generator needs some routine maintenance which will probably take up most of the day. I’ll have to take it apart so we’ll be on backup solar and wind power for the day. Not sure how much charge the main battery has so we’ll need to be careful not to use too much power. Don’t wanna drain it, just in case I can’t get the generator back to working by nightfall.”

“Mmmmm... okay. We’re not due any rain today, just high winds, but it can change quickly. We should keep an eye out. I’d like to start with sorting out the food situation first if that’s alright with you. Get a handle on what we’ve got, supply-wise so we can get our order in today for the next drop.”

“Sounds good,” Louis says and drains the last of his tea. “Breakfast?”

Harry downs his tea and nods. “Yup! Let’s get to it. M’starving.”

Breakfast consists of toast and jam and some porridge with honey, sharing the preparation duties amicably. They work well together, moving around each other like they’ve done this routine a thousand times. Louis has such a calming nature, it settles Harry like a comfort he hasn’t known he was missing.

“I like this,” Harry comments as they wash their dishes. “Us. Just being here. It’s so peaceful. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed having a home, you know?”

Louis chuckles, hanging the tea towel on the hook beside the fridge and leaning against the bench, crossing his ankles and resting his hand on his hip. “You a mind reader as well?” 

Harry turns and mirrors his position, leaning against the sink. “Huh?”

“I was  _ just _ thinking the same thing. Hotel life can really get you down. Living out of a suitcase. Never having anything more than you can fit in a bar fridge.”

“Takeout for one every dinner time,” Harry continues. “Different beds each night. Those few seconds when you wake up and don’t know where you are. No one to share what happened in your day or your plans for the next.”

Louis nods, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. I’ve missed this too.”

“S’weird. I sorta feel like we’ve been living-“

“Parallel lives…” Louis finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

They stand and stare at each other for a few beats, letting the shared realization wash over them. It’s Louis that breaks their gaze, looking down and fiddling with the drawstring of his hoodie. “I’m gonna uhm… go get dressed.”

“Oh. Alright. Yeah, I should too. Then we can make a start on these boxes,” Harry says and thumbs over his shoulder at the mountain of stuff they have to deal with.

Louis straightens up and walks toward him, not making eye contact, just pausing briefly to lay his hand on Harry’s bicep, giving it a small squeeze before moving on. It’s a silent acknowledgment, but a meaningful one. They’ve both led these bizarre lives in a sort of limbo, drifting, never quite connecting with anyone else in a way that could be described as anything more than an acquaintance or a fleeting encounter to satisfy their physical needs. But this… this feels different. More, somehow. The environmental constraints alone are enough to force a deeper connection, trapped together, living together, working together, existing in a bubble with no other human interaction.

As Harry pads down the hallway to the bathroom he wonders how this will unfold. The  _ just friends _ arrangement wasn’t a never, just a for now, for starters, but he can’t help the hope that blooms in his chest at the thought of what it could become, what they could become.


	3. The Heart Opens

Hello new subscribers! All seven of you ;) I’m writing this at lunchtime on our second day. The weather is being kind to us again so Louis has headed off to do some routine maintenance on the diesel generator and I’m going to pop out soon to check on the veggie patch and then make a start on repairing some stairs. Fun! No seriously. It’s wonderful. The air is crisp and fresh, the sun is shining, and even though the wind buffets us night and day, there’s really nowhere else I’d rather be.

We spent the morning unpacking and sorting the mountain of crates and bags that had come over with us on the helicopter ride. The food situation is pretty good, albeit basic, but it’s decent enough and with a bit of creativity I’m sure I can whip us up some delicious meals. Louis maintains he burns water and therefore I should look after feeding us, but I suspect it’s a none-too-subtle ploy to avoid having to cook. I’m just gonna go with it for now but let the record show I’m totally onto the sneaky bastard. Anyway, my specialty minestrone soup is on the menu for tonight!

Just before lunch we took our first readings at the weather station and logged them online. It’s fine when Mother Nature is being kind but it’ll be another story when she’s grumpy. Oh well. Things to look forward to I guess.

I’m thinking I’ll probably try and do a post every few days, assuming there are things to report and Louis hasn’t murdered me when I thrash him at Scrabble. We’re both rather competitive, you see, and we’re having our first match tonight so wish me luck and I hope to be alive and blogging again soon.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Louis sits at the dining table, tools spread out, and the bar heater from his room in pieces before him. He’d tried fixing it while it was attached to the wall but that had only resulted in a stiff neck, an almost-tumble from a chair with dubious sturdiness, and a scolding from Harry about not wanting to have his partner in crime medevaced off the island on their second day. He had a point so Louis had taken it off the wall and dumped it on the table, although it doesn’t appear to be having any marked impact on his ability to repair the fucking thing.

He chucks the screwdriver down on the table and huffs out a breath. “Okay. I give up. This pile of junk is officially broken.”

Harry turns and looks toward him with a fond smile on his face. He’s partway through whipping them up some kind of minestrone soup and it smells bloody amazing. He wipes his hands on the tea towel draped over his shoulder and wanders around behind him, hands finding his shoulders and massaging the tension from his muscles. “Well. Unless you wanna freeze to death it looks like you’re stuck with me as a sleeping companion.”

Louis tilts his head back, resting it on Harry’s stomach and looks at him upside down. “There are worse things… I suppose,” he says with a grin.

“Heeeyyyy… I’m an excellent bedmate.”

“You do have that personal furnace thing going on.”

“ _And_ I don’t snore, or steal the covers. You should be thanking your lucky stars.”

“Oh, I am,” Louis says and lolls his head forward, chin coming to rest on his chest as Harry digs in with his thumbs, working at a knot. “Fuck. That feels good, Haz.”

“Lean forward a bit.”

Louis pushes the pile of metal and wires that was once the bar heater into the middle of the table with his forearms and rests them on the surface. Harry’s hands slide down either side of his spine, fingers magically finding all the sore spots, his body aching from a long day of physical work.

Louis had managed to do the maintenance on the diesel generator in the afternoon, getting it put back together just before the light started to fade. Harry, for his part, had repaired a few of the treads on the stairs and assessed the state of the veggie patch, which he’d decided was woeful, not that he was deterred, making plans for what supplies he needed to order for the next chopper drop.

“You’ve got a knot… right here,” Harry murmurs as he presses in with his knuckles. The burning sensation pulses up and extends out across his shoulder blade as Harry coaxes the muscle to release the built-up tension. Louis closes his eyes as Harry’s nimble fingers work their way up to his neck, playing him like a piano, the rhythmic motions soothing him. He’s drifting, wind howling outside the cottage, fire crackling and the smell of Harry’s soup filling the small space and combining to create a vivid sensory memory. It seems familiar, not because he’s experienced it before, but in a way that makes him feel it will be for future Louis, like it’ll become a memory to be revisited over and over again.

Harry glides his hands down Louis’ biceps, chest pressing into Louis’ back, cloaking him in his warmth, his scent enveloping him. Louis shifts in his seat, a far off awareness of his building arousal filtering into his consciousness. He’s always been a sucker for a good massage and Harry is definitely up there with the best he’s had, in more ways than one. His mind wanders back to their first night together. Bodies writhing as the passion overtook them, the urgency and desire hurtling them toward their releases. It had been one of the best sexual experiences of Louis’ life and he’s used the memories from that night to feed his wank sessions more often than he’d care to admit. They’d just fit so well together, and not just in bed, the easy banter and conversation that had flowed that night continued after they reconnected in preparation for their adventure. And now… well. It’s palpable. 

Harry trails his hands back to Louis’ shoulders, going in harder now and sending pleasure and relief throughout Louis’ body. A whimper escapes his lips, unable to catch it before it bursts out. He should be embarrassed by how affected he is, but at this moment, he can’t be arsed to care.

“Feels good?” Harry asks, the timbre of his voice reverberating in Louis’ chest. 

“Fuck yeah,” Louis breathes out unabashedly. “So good.”

“I’ll give you a proper massage one night... if you like. I brought some oil with me. Slick you up good and proper,” Harry practically purrs and Louis’ traitorous dick responds with a twitch, now half-hard in his pants. He can’t let this go on any longer. All he wants to do is haul Harry off into the bedroom and let him wreck him, and that would be bad, so bad, but also, so fucking good. No. The friends thing is going well and it’s only day two for god's sake. If he gives in now who knows how it’ll affect their time on the island.

Louis pushes himself back and brings his hands to rest over Harry’s, patting them gently. “That was brilliant, thanks, Haz.”

Harry stills his hands “Oh… there’s uhm… more knots if you want me to-“

“Nope! All good now.” Louis gets up from his chair and grabs one of the empty boxes from their earlier unpacking, setting it on the table and chucking the pieces of the bar heater inside, making sure to keep his back to Harry so he can’t see the semi in his pants. “Feel great! New lease on life and all that.” He sounds borderline manic and he can feel a flush on his cheeks.

“I’ll just go and uhm… Soup! Right. Dinner should be ready,” Harry says from behind him and Louis cringes at how uncomfortable he’s made things. He really needs to get his libido in check, although in fairness, Harry isn’t exactly making things easy. His hands. Fuck. And pressing himself up against Louis’ back and his voice, god, the depth of it is enough to have Louis wanting to jump him at any given moment but when those words are being whispered into his ear, hit breath on the outer shell, it’s enough to make him fully combust.

“Fantastic!” Louis shouts like an idiot. Why is he shouting? Good grief. “Just gonna pop to the loo!” And now he’s announcing his trips to the fucking bathroom. Maybe he should call in the military to extract him, get them to halo-drop into the living room and save him from himself. He dumps the box on the floor and scurries out of the room and away from the scene of the crime.

Five minutes later, after a good splash of water on his face and a stern talking-to in the mirror, Louis returns to find Harry sat at the table, places set for them both and steaming bowls of soup laid out. The fire is loaded up with fresh logs for the evening and there’s soft music playing on Harry’s laptop, a bottle of red wine open and glasses filled. It’s all ridiculously romantic and for a split second Louis considers turning and running back to the safety of the bathroom. But then Harry looks up at him and the expression on his face draws Louis in like a goddamn tractor beam. The firelight is licking at his cheeks, eyes shining with something like hope and Louis is powerless to resist.

He takes his seat, Harry offering him some pepper for his soup from the grinder and Louis nods. “Where’d you find the wine?”

“Back of the pantry. Could taste like vinegar but figured it was worth a go.”

“Living on the edge. I like it,” Louis says with a grin and brings the glass to his lips. It doesn’t taste like vinegar, thankfully. “Not bad, Haz. Not bad at all.”

Harry raises his in cheers and Louis leans over. “To our first full day on the island!” Harry announces, clinking their glasses together. 

“Indeed. Been a good day,” Louis offers, diving into the soup with his spoon. He blows over the top of the mouthful and swallows it down. “Mmmmmm, this is excellent! You’re definitely on chef duties from here on.”

Harry smiles brightly and digs into his own bowl of minestrone. “Glad you like it.”

“Although…” Louis muses and tilts his head to the side. “I can’t help but notice that you let me try the wine first and then again with the soup. Am I your personal taster or something?”

Harry barks out a laugh, covering his mouth with the back of his hand before raising in front of him in defence. “You got me. That’s exactly what you are to me. I’m a very important person, you know. Can’t have me taken down in some attempted assassination.”

“Ohhhhh... I’m in the presence of greatness, am I? Salutations and apologies, my Prince, my liege,” Louis says and bows his head, poking Harry’s ankle under the table with his big toe.

Harry chuckles and kicks Louis’ foot away. “You’re an idiot.”

“Whatever you say, Prince Big Dick.”

Harry smirks at him over the rim of his wine glass. “You think I have a big dick?”

Louis rolls his eyes and if the soup wasn’t so good he’d flick a spoonful at Harry’s smug face. “It’s really not up for debate and you know it.”

“Well, if I’m Prince Big Dick, then you’re Prince Nice Arse.”

Louis giggles. “This conversation is ridiculous.”

“ _You’re_ ridiculous,” Harry counters, loading up his spoon and sliding it into his mouth around a cheeky grin.

The banter continues for the rest of the meal, it’s easy and so comfortable that Louis struggles to remember how he had ever felt any trepidation about their time here, fleeting as those thoughts may have been. 

They finish up dinner and migrate to the couch, sitting with their backs against the armrests, feet tangled in the middle, blanket over their legs. Louis is reading a book while Harry taps away at his laptop, the fire burning brightly, logs shifting and crackling as they slowly turn to embers and then ash.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Harry asks and Louis looks up. He inhales sharply at the sight before him and tries to cover it with a cough. Harry is just so beautiful, is the thing. His jawline accentuated by the shadow cast across it from the fire, a hint of stubble on his chin and upper lip, plush and full and desperately biteable. He wants to feel those lips on his again, to taste the sweetness, to feel Harry’s warm breath mingling with his own, tongues, hot and wet, hands everywhere, exploring.

He squeezes his eyes shut to regain his composure, opening them again to find Harry’s brow quirked in amusement. “Oh. Uhm… I was thinking I’d make a start on the mechanical inspection of the lighthouse motors. You?”

“We might need to consider something more indoors focused,” Harry says as he turns his laptop around to show Louis the weather radar. There’s a lot of black and red on the twelve to twenty-four-hour projection which doesn’t bode well.

“Shit. That looks nasty.” Louis leans forward for a better look, squinting his eyes. He should’ve grabbed his glasses before they settled in, but he can’t be bothered now, too comfortable in their little cocoon. “Right. Well, maybe we’ll have to kick off that scrabble tournament instead.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth curls up in a mischievous grin. “Sure. If you reckon you’re up for it?”

“I’ll have you know, Harold, that I will whip your arse without mercy and wipe that smug smile off your face. You’re going down.”

Harry chuckles. “Harold?”

“Yes. Harold.”

“Alright. _Lewis_.”

Louis pokes him in the shin with his socked foot and Harry squawks, flinching swag and closing the lid of his laptop, setting it on the coffee table. Harry reaches over his head with both arms, stretching out his torso, back cracking as he rolls it over the armrest. His shirt rides up to provide Louis with an unfair reminder of what’s hiding underneath, of what he can’t have, what he can’t touch. 

Louis lets his gaze linger a moment too long and Harry rights himself, catching Louis staring. The shit-eating grin Harry gives him is expected but still makes Louis squirm, a blush creeping up his neck. Time to make a run for it. “I think I might go and shower. Get ready for bed.”

“Mmmmm… bed. Yes please.” Harry nods, eyeing him hungrily and honestly, Louis thinks he deserves some kind of award for the restraint he’s showing. He lifts the blanket and swings his legs out, feet planting on the floor. He closes his book and sets it down on the table, twisting at the waist side-to-side to stretch his back out before leaning forward, elbows pushing into his knees to spread them out. He hears a small whimper from beside him and smirks to himself. Two can play at this teasing game, after all, and he can totally give as good as he gets.

Louis gets up and goes to check the windows are secure, sliding the dust bunny across to block the gap between the bottom of the front door and the floor to keep out the cold. As he wanders past the lounge and into the hallway he catches the unmistakable sound of a long sigh from Harry. Maybe this _friends only_ thing is stupid, he thinks to himself as he closes the bathroom door behind him. They’re clearly into each other and while the physical attraction is undeniable, it’s not just that. They get each other. Similar places in their lives, similar temperaments, different interests for sure, but that simply makes it more exciting. Harry is kind and funny, compassionate and smart and so gorgeous inside and out that Louis struggles to believe he’s real. But he is. He’s real, right here, with him.

The hot water streams down his back, steam rising in the small space and fogging up his mind. Harry is everything Louis had always hoped he’d find in a partner, and now here he is, served up on a platter for the taking. Perhaps he needs to stop being so worried about ruining things and just fucking go for it. But that little voice in his head is still there, nattering away, reminding him of the pitfalls of allowing things to develop too quickly, time condensed under these confined circumstances. He scrubs at his skin, the foam building in peaks before it escapes down the drain, washed away. His head comes to rest on the cold tiled wall, eyes closed, water running off the end of his nose, and breathing through his mouth. Images of Harry flood his brain; bright smiles when Louis makes him laugh, little pouts when he doesn’t get his own way, the heated gaze that burns through Louis like a lightning bolt when his eyes roam over his body. Louis’ hand finds his dick unconsciously and he thinks about stopping, he really does, not wanting to give in to his desires, but it’s as though an external force has taken over him, uncontrollable and sure. He strokes himself, lazily at first, the skin soft to his touch. He doesn’t want slow though. Not now. Not while his head is a mess of swirling images and confusion and want and need and Harry. He spins around, back hitting the cold tiles, head tilted back out of the spray. He strips his cock furiously, bottom lip bitten between his teeth to quell the urge to cry out the only word on his tongue. _Harry_. It’s too fast and too hard and edging on the side of too much but he doesn’t care. He chases his release, one hand around his cock as the other fists in a ball against his thigh. This isn’t about making it good, it’s about getting it done. He comes with a whimper, pained and primal, bursting out of him as he sags forward, hands on his knees, chest expanding and contracting, breaths heavy in the small space.

The buzz in Louis’ body subsides and he straightens up, rinsing the shame off his hand. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says on an exhale. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s gotten off to thoughts of Harry, but this time it feels different, wrong even. 

Before it had been abstract; past memories of a one night stand nicely compartmentalised and wheeled out when he desired. But now, Harry is here, merely a room away, very much in Louis’ present, and full of life and joy and smiles and laughter and soft touches and warm embraces and horrible jokes and kindness and calm and… “ _Goddamnit._ ”

Louis shuts off the water, slamming the shower screen behind him as he gets out, and snatching his towel off the railing. His reflection in the mirror catches his eye, guilt written all over his face. Absurd. Utterly, fucking, absurd. What does he have to feel guilty about? He’s a grown-ass man who slept with another, consenting, grown-ass man. His memories are his own and he can do whatever he wants with them. If he chooses to use them to get himself off in the privacy of his shower then he fucking can. He doesn’t have to answer to anyone, least of all the annoyingly judgemental voice in his head.

He dries off and gets dressed, cleaning his teeth before venturing back out and straight into his bedroom to dump his dirty clothes. He pauses, considering his options. There’s really only three. He could stay in here, bundle up as best he can and hope he doesn’t freeze to death. He could go back out and set himself up on the couch and try to keep the fire going all night. Or he could just suck it up, go into Harry’s room where it’s warm and cozy and keep his bloody mind and body in check.

In the end, the choice is simple.

He walks into Harry’s bedroom, the bar heater pumping out heat and mocking him from its place on the wall. He scowls at it as if that will somehow make the situation better. It doesn’t. Harry is sat on his side of the bed thumbing through a National Geographic magazine from the stack in the living room. They’re all a million years old but Harry likes them for reasons defying explanation. _“But they’re brilliant, Lou, they’re like time capsules,_ ” Harry had said, earnest eyes imploring Louis to understand. Louis had just smiled and patted him on the knee, adding it to the long list of endearing things that made up the strange enigma that was Harry Styles.

Harry glances up and smiles. “All done?”

“Yeah. Shower’s yours,” Louis says flatly, unable to snap himself out of his funk and earning him a confused look from Harry. 

He crosses over the room and sits on the edge of the bed, back to Harry, waiting for him to leave so he can settle himself and get rid of the frustration welling up inside. 

“Y’alright, Lou?”

“Yeah. Just tired I think,” Louis says with a shrug, not turning around. 

Harry hums in response. “That jet lag’s a bitch,” he adds in solidarity. And is it really necessary for him to be so accommodating all the time? Louis doesn’t deserve it, not that Harry can see into his stupid brain and understand the turmoil he’s going through.

“Should be good as new by tomorrow,” Louis offers, still not turning around but it must be enough for Harry, the mattress rising as he gets up off the bed. 

“Yeah, reckon so. Alright. Shower time for me. Back in a bit.”

Harry pads out of the room and Louis lets out a long sigh, scrubbing his hands down his face. He needs to snap out of this. Harry doesn’t deserve to have to deal with him in this state.

Louis kicks off his Ugg boots and slides under the covers, the coolness of the sheets seeping through his sleep clothes and making him shiver. He lays on his back and pulls the blankets up to his chin, tucking his hands underneath against his chest. Tomorrow will be a better day, he assures himself. From tomorrow he’ll get his shit together, keep his emotions and desires in check, and he’ll be the best bloody version of himself to support Harry through their adventure. 

The shower hums through the wall behind his head, the old pipes emitting a high-pitched whine through the thin partition. He can hear Harry disturbingly clearly; the squeak of his feet on the plastic shower pan, the low melody of the song he’s singing, the thud as he drops the soap. A mild panic starts to settle over Louis. How much could Harry hear when Louis was showering? Did he hear the slick sounds of him stripping his cock? The strained _Fuck_ as he reached his peak?

Louis groans to himself and squeezes his eyes shut but they fly open again when he hears a muffled groan as if in reply to his own from the other side of the wall. He listens more intently, holding his breath. Another groan, unmistakable even through the barrier. Harry’s getting himself off too. A broad smile spreads across Louis’ face and suddenly he doesn’t feel quite so embarrassed. There’s a thud against the wall and then a brief silence followed by a strained cry. A few beats pass and then the shower shuts off, Louis’ smile shifting into a grin.

Harry pads back into the bedroom, flushed cheeks and hair damp. He doesn’t make eye contact with Louis, simply sits on the edge of the bed with his back to him.

“Feel better now?” Louis asks, a hint of smugness in his tone. 

“Mhmmm… much. All clean now.”

“Yeah… clean…”

Harry twists around and Louis looks up at him with a knowing smirk on his face. Harry returns it unabashedly with a shrug of his shoulder and slides his feet under the covers. “Pretty sure we'll both sleep better tonight.”

“Yeah. I think the jet lag is finally wearing off,” Louis offers.

“Oh... jet lag… That’s _totally_ the only reason we’ll sleep better tonight,” Harry says as he pulls the blankets up to his chest. They both know full well why they’ll sleep more soundly and it’s kind of nice that they’re on the same page. 

“Yup,” Louis says, popping the ‘p’. “Can’t think of any other reason.”

The bed starts to shake and Louis turns his head to find Harry trying to stifle his giggles, mouth pressed into the blanket, but it’s a lost cause. Louis’ laughter bursts out of him uncontrollably and Harry… well, he completely loses it. 

A few minutes, a few swats in the chest, and a few pokes in the shin with socked feet and their laughter finally subsides. Harry reaches over and flicks off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, only the orange glow from the bar heater providing light in the quiet room.

“Night, Lou.”

“Yeah. Night, Haz.”

Louis starts to drift toward his slumber, Harry’s body heat spreading across the small distance between them and warming Louis’ side. He aches to close the gap, to reach out, to pull him in tightly. Instead, he allows the calm to seep into his bones and drag him under into his dreams.

Well hello new friends (67 subscribers! WTF?). I honestly didn’t think anyone would care enough to find this corner of the internet or be interested in what I had to say, but I guess I was wrong? It’s been a challenging few days with constant rain and strong winds but we’re trying to stay upbeat. We’re making the best of the situation with lots of time by the fire catching up on our reading and although we haven’t brought out the scrabble board just yet, it’s probably not too far away. Can’t believe Louis still thinks he’s going to beat me. Poor, delusional, Lou ;)

Our progress on The List has been fairly slow due to Mother Nature whacking at us at every opportunity but we’re doing what we can. Getting the weather station readings have been mini-adventures in themselves. We come back completely drenched even though we wear our weatherproof jackets because the pesky wind manages to let the rain sneak underneath no matter how hard we try to avoid it. As a result, the living room currently resembles a makeshift laundry with lines strung across the room in a criss-cross pattern to dry all our damp clothing. I’ve nearly been garrotted a couple of times but it serves me right for not paying more attention. I ended up on my arse after one almost beheading which Louis found highly amusing. He was laughing so much he fell off the couch and smacked his funny bone on the coffee table. Karma really is a bitch :)

I’ve received some lovely messages about my cooking and asking what other treats I’ve got in store for us. Well... I baked today! I haven’t baked for years, what with all the time I’ve spent in hotels, so having an actual kitchen at my disposal was amazing. For those interested, I made a batch of parmesan and herb muffins and some good old Australian damper. Felt like a proper Aussie. There’s not much in the way of sweet things I can make with our current stores but I’d added a few ingredients to the supply order so I’ll be whipping up some more interesting things in the coming weeks. Hopefully, that will satisfy Louis’ sweet tooth!

Anyway, it’s time to brave the elements and do the daily weather station readings again so fingers crossed we don’t get blown off the cliff!

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

The next few days passed in a blur of wind and rain, tired muscles, grey skies, and bone-crushing cold. Everything is hard, even harder than Louis had imagined it would be. They both try to stay buoyant, sharing the load along with jokes and laughter when they can. They check the radar every evening, only to be presented with the same weather report each time. 

They try to stay indoors as much as they can, only going out to travel between the cottage and the lighthouse or out to the weather station. Harry manages to do some work on the verandah, repairing the rotten boards but it’s been a slow grind, having to come inside each time the wind whips around from the south-west and blankets him in wave-like sheets of rain. Louis does some work revamping the existing spreadsheets that track the weather readings and improve efficiencies where he can. 

Louis glances at the radar on his laptop. It’s not looking good. But they have to go out to do the readings. “Haz,” he says and glances up from his warm and cozy spot on the couch. “You ready?”

“Yeah, just a sec,” he says from the desk typing away on his keyboard. He finishes with a flurry and closes the lid, turning to face Louis. “Okay. We’d best get rugged up.”

“Mmmm… the weather is coming in so we’re gonna have to be quick.”

“Not sure you’ve looked outside recently, but I’d say the weather is already here, Lou.”

Louis eyes the sky through the window and Harry’s right. It’s bucketing down. Big, ominous, dark clouds fill the window pane. He focuses back on the radar and shakes his head. “There’s worse about to hit us. Come on. We should go now.”

They both get up and put on their boots, gloves and heavy jackets, making sure they’re fully buttoned up. Louis’ sheepskin-lined coat is still damp from his last trip outside and it sends a shiver down his spine. 

“Y’alright?” Harry asks as he places his hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah. Just cold. You know… the usual,” Louis says with a shrug.

“I think we should make a run for it. Ready?”

Louis nods and clutches the plastic clipboard to his chest as Harry opens the door. The rain is coming in sideways, easily making its way in through the doorway, the awning over the verandah no match for its determination.

They take off and leap down the steps, jogging toward the weather station about a hundred meters away. The wind whips the rain against their faces, boots falling heavily on the sodden ground. A rumble of thunder rolls over them, flashes of lightning illuminating the darkened sky. Everything is surging around them; from the ocean pounding against the cliffs, to the wind howling and rain pelting down on them, it’s a cacophony of sounds unlike anything Louis has experienced before.

They make it to the station and have to hang on to it to stay upright. Harry lowers the side of the box and holds it in place so Louis can rest the clipboard on top. He takes the readings and records them as best he can but it’s hard to clear the rain off the surface to write even with the waterproof marker. Harry moves around and tries to shield it with his body but the wind is swirling so much it barely helps at all. He finally manages to get them down, and they close the box.

Another crack from above makes Louis jump, no longer rolling thunder. “Fuck!”

“Let’s get back to the cottage!” Harry shouts, eyes manic, face drenched by the pounding rain.

They turn and run back down the track that is rapidly turning into a small river, every step more dangerous than the last. Harry grabs his arm and hauls Louis up onto the grass instead. It’s slippery but makes it easier to run than the ankle-deep water of the gravel track.

Louis loses his footing, sliding on the drenched grass. He’s sure he’s going to fall and prepares himself for the impact but Harry’s firm hand steadies him just in time.

“Come on!” Harry yells over the deafening storm, a loud crack of lightning shooting across the sky, briefly turning the dark clouds a brilliant silver.

They make it to the steps and launch themselves up onto the verandah. Harry flings the door open and they tumble inside, slamming it behind them, the thud being consumed by another lightning strike.

Louis drops the clipboard to the floor, leaning forward, hands on his knees, lungs straining angrily for air. Water cascades down his face, dripping off the end of his nose and onto the wooden boards.

“Fucking _hell_ ,” Harry gasps beside him.

Louis’ breathing starts to calm down but the adrenaline is still coursing through his veins. He starts to shiver, teeth chattering. “Y-yeah,” he stutters. 

Harry moves to stand in front of him, pulling him upright by his biceps. “Fuck, Lou. You’re shaking.”

“I-I’m a-alright,” Louis stammers out. Clearly he’s very much not alright. 

“Shit. We need to get you out of these wet clothes,” Harry says firmly, worried eyes scanning over Louis' trembling body. He strips off his own jacket, gloves and jumper and they hit the floor with soggy slaps. He toes off his boots next, pulling off his socks and pants leaving him in his long-sleeved t-shirt and boxer briefs. He surges forward and pulls at the buttons on Louis' jacket, dispensing with it and his gloves quickly as Louis simply stands there, unable to get his limbs to move in any kind of helpful way. Harry drops to his knees and takes off Louis’ boots and socks, tugging down his soaking sweatpants before getting back up and lifting his hoodie over his head, the sodden clothing joining the pile along with Harry’s.

Harry takes his hand and leads him over to the fireplace, Louis following dumbly, words escaping him for now. They stand on the rug, Harry rubbing his hands up and down Louis’ arms and back, trying to get the blood flowing as the warmth from the fire envelopes them.

“It’s alright, Lou. I’ve got you,” Harry whispers soothingly into his hair. “Just need to warm you up then you’ll be fine.”

“M’okay,” Louis breathes into Harry’s warm chest, nose buried between his pecs. And he is. Fine, that is. More than. Wrapped in the arms of this wonderful man who he is rapidly associating with everything good and safe and comforting in his life. Harry’s kind of his world right now. Not just in this moment, but more than that. His best friend. His companion. His rock. His source of happiness and light. Every day more amazing than the last. Every dream and hope for the future intrinsically linked to him in a way Louis had never envisaged with another person.

Louis glides his hands up Harry’s back, slotting perfectly between his shoulder blades, digging his fingertips into the strong muscles. Harry stops moving, hands stilling on Louis’ lower back just above the swell of his arse.

The room feels like it’s spinning, the storm fading far off into the distance, and the world narrowing to just the two of them. Louis strokes down Harry’s back, slowly, gently. He noses at Harry’s chest, lips pressing in for a chaste kiss as he moves his hands down to grip Harry’s love handles. 

Harry sucks in a sharp breath and Louis hopes with all his heart that he’s not on the wrong track, that he isn’t about to ruin everything. He walks his lips across Harry’s clothed chest, kissing a path to his peaked nipple, and back again. Harry’s breath stutters, heartbeat pulsing under Louis’ mouth as he pulls Louis in closer, aligning their hips.

The warmth of the fire has brought Louis back to himself, focused. He knows what he wants. He lifts his head and looks up into Harry’s eyes. There’s a question on his face as though he’s seeking reassurance from Louis that they’re on the same page. Louis doesn’t respond with words, just rises up on his toes and places a soft kiss to the underside of Harry’s jaw.

Harry elongates his neck, fingers digging into Louis' hips. “ _Lou_ ,” he says on a strained exhale. “What’re you doing?”

Louis trails his lips over the lightly stubbled skin. “Would’ve thought that was obvious,” Louis says as he tilts his pelvis up to rub their clothed cocks together.

“B-but, I thought you said we should just be friends for now.”

“Mmmm… we tried that. How was it working out for you?”

Harry huffs out a breath and lowers his head. “Fucking awful.”

Louis pulls back and they hold each other’s gaze for a beat, then another, the air charged around them.

Harry smirks and Louis nods in silent encouragement. It’s apparently all the indication Harry needs and he reaches down and lifts him under his thighs, Louis instinctively wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist and arms around his neck. 

Harry takes off toward the bedroom, bumping them into furniture and walls on the haphazard journey as Louis clings to him. “Slow down cowboy,” he chides through a fit of giggles.

“Nope. Gotta have you. _Now_.”

Harry shoulders open the bedroom door and pauses briefly for Louis to pull the string for the bar heater. He barely has a moment to adjust to their surroundings before he’s being flung through the air and onto the bed. He lets out an indignant squawk as he bounces on the mattress but his attention is diverted as he watches Harry strip off his shirt and briefs, skin glistening in the orange light of the heater. Louis pulls his shirt off over his head and then lays back, lifting his hips and yanking down his briefs, chucking them over the side of the bed.

Louis pauses and stares, brain fizzing with desire and need as his eyes roam over Harry’s lithe body. “ _God_. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” is what Louis manages to get out. “Get over here.”

Harry moves far too slowly for Louis’ liking, too busy staring at him like he’s about to eat him alive. Louis decides to speed things along, spreading his legs and stroking his cock lazily.

It has the desired effect, Harry’s eyes snapping up to Louis’. “Don’t you _dare_. That’s mine,” he growls out, closing the distance and swatting Louis’ hand away. He knees up onto the bed, slotting himself between Louis’ legs and sitting back on his heels.

Louis’ chest is heaving in anticipation, nerves scrambling under his skin as Harry darts his gaze over Louis’ torso and down to his cock, resting hard against his hip. It’s like Harry doesn’t know where to start and it’s driving Louis insane with need.

“Just gonna stare at me all day or are you actually gonna do something about it?” Louis challenges, bucking his hips, cock slapping on his skin, fist balled beside his thighs to restrain himself.

Harry smirks, eyes narrowing as he edges forward, knees pressing into the underside of Louis’ knees and forcing them further apart. He takes hold of Louis' wrists as he looms over him, pushing them into the covers above Louis’ head. “Stay.”

Louis blinks up at him, only inches between their bodies. Harry licks his lips and Louis’ eyes are drawn to the movement, mirroring it unconsciously. The air is staticky, raw, charged, like it's ready to ignite with a single spark. Louis cranes his neck and licks a stripe along Harry’s jaw, damp from the rain with a hint of salty sweat lingering underneath. “Fuck. Taste so good, Haz,” he says as he slumps back onto the bed.

Harry groans and he’s clearly reached the limit of his restraint. He takes one last look at Louis and then dives in, slamming their lips together in a bruising kiss. There’s nothing gentle about it, all teeth and tongue and heat and passion. Louis gives as good as he gets, moaning into Harry’s mouth, wanton and primal.

Harry drops his hips, cocks lining up and grinding together as he moves back and forth. Louis isn’t going to last, everything building in a blur, arousal coursing through his bloodstream like lava. He bites down on Harry’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, saliva pooling in the crease of his chin. Harry pulls away, lip extended until it snaps back with a pop. His pupils are blown, cheeks flushed pink and Louis’ stomach does a somersault at the sight, tingles surging out to his fingers and toes.

Harry releases his wrists and sits back, sliding down the bed and Louis is confused for a moment until Harry grabs his hips and flips him onto his front. Louis turns his head to look back over his shoulder as Harry grips both of his arse cheeks, pulling them apart and leaning down to blow cool air over his hole.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he cries out as his hands white-knuckle in the covers.

“Been dreaming about getting my mouth on you for so long. Was kicking myself I didn’t take the opportunity on our first night together.”

Harry spits onto Louis crack, the saliva dribbling down over his puckered rim. Louis whines high in his throat as Harry spreads it around, biting into his cheeks and sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. Louis’ neck strains, watching as Harry lays down flat between his legs, nosing at his inner thighs, breathing him in, exploring his skin. 

“ _Harry_ , come on...” Louis implores, practically vibrating with every touch, every breath, trying to push his arse back into Harry's face. Harry tsks at him and rolls him to the side, shoving a pillow under his groin.

“So impatient, baby,” Harry chides, the endearment sending a shiver through Louis’ body. “I’ve got you, gonna give you want, eat you out until you’re begging for me to make you come.” 

Louis groans and buries his face in the blanket, humping into the pillow to get some much-needed friction on his cock. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to do though and he earns himself a slap to his arse, but that just makes Louis groan louder.

“Mmmm… you like that?”

“Maybe,” Louis mumbles shyly into the covers. It’s not a thing he’s ever really considered seriously before, his sexual history of mainly one night stands not lending itself to that level of trust. Harry though, is different. This situation is different, everything and anything feels like it’s on the table. His body shivers at the admission, both to Harry and himself.

“Interesting… but we’ll save that for another time, I think,” Harry muses, sparks shooting through Louis’ veins at the implication that this won’t be an isolated occurrence. “Bit busy right now.”

The first swipe of Harry’s tongue over his sensitive hole takes him by surprise, even though it shouldn’t, given the current circumstances. Hot and wet and tantalisingly good. He sucks in a sharp breath, teetering on the edge in anticipation. The second lave of his tongue has Louis sinking into the bed, tension dissipating, fingers stretching out and palms flat. He turns his head to the side to breathe, fringe mussed against his forehead. 

“So beautiful. So perfect,” Harry breathes against Louis’ hole. “Gonna take my time.” Another lick, tongue more pointed this time. “Eat you out for ages.” A nip of teeth. “Get you all wet.”

A shudder travels down Louis’ spine at Harry’s words, goose pimples prickling on his skin as Harry dives in, licking and sucking and circling his tongue around the tight muscle.

The moans Louis is letting out are inhuman, unable to restrain himself with the way Harry is giving it to him. Those plush lips that feel so good on his own were absolutely made to do this, suctioning around his rim, spreading his saliva. Harry’s big hands, pulling him apart, kneading the flesh of his cheeks, thumbs digging in and stretching him.

Harry’s tongue finally breaches the puckered ring and the sensation shoots straight to his cock. “Ah, _fuck_! Fuckfuckfuck!” Louis shouts, shifting back further into Harry’s face, the storm outside no match for the volume of his cries.

Harry growls and lets his teeth scrape over the sensitive skin, holding Louis firmly in place, fingertips sure to leave bruises on his hips. Now that Harry has found his way in he doesn’t let up, probing and prodding, worming his way deeper inside. It’s so much, too much for Louis to process, head a fuzzy mess, and obscenities spilling from his lips without his control. 

Louis grinds down into the pillow, trying to get some friction for his neglected cock, but it does nothing, the soft cotton frustratingly absorbing his movements. Harry's mouth doesn’t leave his hole, suctioned on and following Louis’ every move.

Harry thrusts his tongue in and out, the sounds of slick lips and moans filtering into Louis’ ears. “Fuck, _Haz…_ ” Louis whines, earning a low hum which becomes a constant buzzing spreading throughout his entire body. He fists his hands into the covers, pulling them tight, tension travelling up into his shoulders and back.

Harry slides his thumbs in beside his tongue and Louis arches his back in response. “Yes, yes, _more_ ,” Louis pleads.

“Mmmmm…” Harry moans, licking at his walls with fervour now, giving Louis some of what he wants, but it’s not enough, not nearly enough. His body is trembling, legs shaking, laboured breaths puffing out. He needs more.

“Harry, fuck, need…” Louis babbles, unable to ask for what he so desperately wants. Harry seems to be able to read him like a book though, a long finger sliding in effortlessly and slamming straight into his prostate on the first go. “Yes! _Fuck_. Right there.”

Harry rubs at it relentlessly as Louis’ stomach coils into a familiar knot, pleasure crescendoing. Harry’s sinful mouth works away furiously, excess saliva trickling down Louis’ balls as his toes dig into the mattress. Harry doesn’t let up, seemingly not even to draw breath, maintaining the low hum that continues to reverberate through every cell in Louis’ strung out body. Louis tries to suck air into his lungs but he can’t force it in and out fast enough, head spinning, vision blurring as he hurtles toward his peak. 

One of Harry’s hands comes away from Louis’ arse and snakes underneath his hips, providing something solid for Louis to rut into. He takes advantage of it immediately, grinding into it as Harry mercilessly rubs his finger in circles on his prostate, mouth still slurping and sucking and licking and driving Louis closer to the edge.

“Gonna come, Haz,” Louis rasps, unsure for a moment whether he’s even said it out loud. But Harry’s response gives him all the confirmation he needs, upping his efforts, another finger sliding in, nips of his teeth, and his hand forming a loose fist for Louis to thrust his cock into.

It hits him like a freight train. A surge of electricity, eyes snapping shut, vision whiting out, hole clenching tightly around Harry’s tongue and fingers, and then he’s coming. “ _Fuck_!” His scream is loud, so loud, ears ringing with it, the crest of the wave, careening over the edge and then he’s tumbling, falling, breath held, body seized, come spilling out of him and onto the pillow and Harry’s hand.

Louis is held in a frozen state, unable to move, suspended in time as fireworks go off behind his eyelids, lungs desperate for air, skin hot, and sweat prickling at his temples.

Finally, the blood comes rushing back into his ears and he breathes, sucking in a sharp inhale as he sinks into the covers like the puppet strings have been cut. Limp and spent. Harry eases off his prostate and glides his fingers up his walls and out, tongue laving over his hole, followed by little kitten licks and soft kisses. He withdraws his hand from underneath Louis’ body. Whispering sweet platitudes into his skin. Louis can’t make out words but he doesn’t need to, they’re having the desired effect, bringing him back to the present, slowly, gently.

Louis reaches up and swipes his hair out of his eyes, opening them up and bringing them into focus as he looks back to find a flushed Harry gazing up at him over the swell of his arse with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Well, hi there,” Harry drawls, spit-slick lips puffy and red. 

“Hi yourself,” Louis says, still a bit breathless.

“How are you feeling?”

Louis knows Harry is fishing for compliments but credit where credit is due, he’s earned some praise for that mind-blowing performance. “I feel… completely fucked.”

A beaming smile spreads across his face, eyes bright and brows raised in happiness. He looks quite ridiculous but still gorgeous, always gorgeous. “Glad to be of service.”

Louis giggles and slumps back into the sheets, starfishing his arms and legs and stretching them out. He feels sated and so relaxed he could- Wait. Harry hasn’t gotten off yet. Shit. As tired as Louis is there’s no way he’s not going to return the favour. No one has ever accused him of being a selfish lover and he’s not about to ruin his track record now.

Louis draws his legs up and grabs the come-stained pillow from under his hips, chucking it off the bed to be dealt with tomorrow. He flips over onto his side and pats the bed, giving Harry a sultry gaze. “Come on up here, big boy, and I’ll sort you out.”

Harry is still laying flat on the bed and he looks away shyly, a wayward curl falling over his eye. “Uhm… that won’t be necessary, actually. I sort of… well…”

It takes Louis' foggy brain a few beats to catch on but when he does he can’t stop the laugh he snorts out of his nose. “You _didn’t_?”

Harry lifts up onto his elbows, a beautiful rose blush having crept up onto his cheeks. “What? Like you’ve never rubbed one off in the sheets before,” he says flatly.

“Oh, love. Of _course,_ I have.”

“Anyway. Not like it’s my fault,” Harry huffs out indignantly. “Have you seen your arse? Jesus Christ. And those sounds you were making?” Harry sits up on his heels, arms crossed over his chest. “I refuse to be held responsible for what happens when you make those noises.”

Louis looks him over reverently; hair mussed, body on full display, biceps flexed and soft cock lying in the crevice between his joined thighs. Now that they’ve progressed on from their _friends only_ status he just wants to hold him and fall asleep in his arms. 

He pats the space beside him again. “Will you just get up here already? I wanna cuddle,” Louis says with a small pout. 

The blinding smile returns to Harry’s face, dimples out in full force. He crawls up the bed and lays down on his side. Louis brushes the curls behind his ear and strokes down his cheek.

“Hey,” Harry murmurs.

“Hey, yourself.”

“So we’re good?”

Louis nods, stroking down Harry’s arm, goose pimples appearing in his wake. “We’re more than good. That was amazing, by the way. You’re amazing.”

Harry shivers, the cool air finding their heated bodies. “Mmmm… so the _just friends_ thing…?”

“I think we're past that, yeah?”

“Are we… like… friends with benefits?” Harry asks, a crease forming between his brows.

And no. That’s not at all what Louis wants and he’s pretty sure it’s not what Harry wants either. He leans forward, placing a soft kiss on the offending crease and it disappears under his lips. He pulls back and looks into Harry’s hopeful, but still wary, eyes. “How about you go and clean your teeth and grab a wet face washer. Then you can come back, clean up your boyfriend... and then we can snuggle and go to sleep?”

Louis watches as realization dawns on Harry's face, eyes widening comically. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. That okay?”

“Yes! Oh my god, yes please,” Harry says gleefully and starts peppering kisses all over Louis’ cheeks.

“Eewww… stop that. You taste like arse.”

Harry laughs, ceasing his onslaught. “But I taste like _your_ arse!”

“That doesn’t make it any better,” Louis says with a giggle and pushes at Harry’s chest. “Go on! Teeth. Face washer. Snuggle.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever you say… boyfriend.”

A wave of warmth spreads through Louis’ chest. “I like the way that sounds.”

“Me too.”

Harry gets up and heads to the bathroom, flaccid cock swaying between his legs and pert arse bouncing as he walks. He’s a fucking vision an he’s Louis’, all his.

Boyfriend. He lets the word and the implication swirl around in his head as he gets up and draws back the covers, laying down on top and waiting for Harry’s return. He can hear him humming from the bathroom, tap running as he cleans his teeth. It shuts off and Harry pads back into the room and over to the bed, sitting down on the side.

“So… the weather is supposed to be shit tomorrow again,” Harry says as he drags the warm cloth over Louis' stomach and groin gently, wiping away his come. “What did you want to do while we’re holed up inside?”

Louis grins, matching the one on Harry’s face. “Oh, I dunno. We could alphabetize the bookshelves? I could work on the spreadsheet some more? We could-“

“Stop it,” Harry snorts and flicks him with the cloth and then throws it on the ground, leaping over and sliding in beside him, pulling the covers up around their necks. Louis rolls over and tucks himself into Harry’s side, warm and safe and blissfully happy.

“How would you feel about just staying in bed all day?”

Harry kisses the top of his head and pulls him in closer as the storm rages outside. “I think that sounds lovely.”

As Louis drifts off to sleep he can’t help but think it’s more than lovely. It’s perfect.


	4. The Stars Align

Hello and welcome to all the new friends out there who have decided to follow along on this adventure! I don’t really understand how all of this is working but I’m blown away by the response and interest. Just checked and there are 321 subscribers. Woo hoo!

Today has been a great day. We managed to get outside for more than just the weather station readings for the first time in what feels like _ages_. I think we were bordering on cabin fever if the state of the living room is anything to go by. I decided two days ago to rip up a corner of the room to replace the dodgy floorboards and let's just say… that was not my finest hour as the photograph demonstrates… but it’s almost back together now!

The sun was shining after lunch today so we hiked down to the small inlet known as Seal Cove and perched ourselves on the clifftop high above the beach. Yes! We have seals! I took so many pictures of them, and, uhm… Louis. Listen. It’s not my fault. The camera loves him and it’s hard, even in this amazing environment, to drag the lens away from him so I make no apologies.

Anywaaay... where was I? Oh! Seals. They’re such majestic creatures and we got to watch them from afar lazing around on the rocks for a couple of hours. It’s fascinating how hard they work to move around on land compared to how graceful they are in the water and surfing the waves. We stayed until the sun started to fade and the air got cold and then wandered back to the cottage.

There’s a pot of stew simmering away on the stove which is going to need my attention soon so I’ll sign off for now.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Harry hits submit on the post and closes the lid of his laptop, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his back. He spreads his arms wide and smacks into something warm and solid. Spinning around he finds Louis staring down at him, arms crossed, and one eyebrow raised in question.

“The camera loves me, does it?”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath, a flush rampaging up his neck and onto his cheeks as he spins back around and hides his face in his hands. “Shit. M’sorry.”

“What was that, Harold?” Louis asks, tone hard but Harry thinks, _hopes_ , he hears a hint of teasing underneath. He turns and braves a peek through his fingers.

“Said I’m sorry,” Harry offers sheepishly, lowering his hands fully. He had meant to tell Louis, numerous times actually, but he’d worried that Louis would think it was silly. Everything has been going so well, particularly with their newfound boyfriend status that he didn’t want to risk upsetting the situation. 

“And what are you sorry for?” Louis presses for more information, apparently not willing to let Harry off just yet.

Harry feels like a scolded schoolboy. Images flash through his mind of an overbearing teacher in middle school who loved to berate his students. “Uhm… for not telling you I was writing a blog about our adventure.”

“A blog,” Louis states flatly. “About our adventure,” Louis repeats Harry’s words back at him.

“Yeah. It’s…” Harry spins around, reopening the lid of his laptop and typing in his password, the screen switching over to the blog entry he’s just posted. “It’s just a thing I thought I’d do, to track what we do here. Thought it’d be fun, you know? Like a journal and somewhere to share my photos.”

Louis leans his elbows on Harry’s shoulders, the sharp juts of bone digging into his muscles. “Show me,” he murmurs into Harry’s ear, a shiver cascading down his spine.

Harry fumbles with the wireless mouse, nearly sending it flying off the desk. He winces at his clumsiness, Louis’ proximity turning him into a jittery mess. Steeling himself with a deep breath he clicks through the pages explaining each of them to Louis as he goes. He shows him the subscribers count and all the encouraging and funny comments that have been posted. Louis hums in acknowledgement and asks a few questions about the setup of the site but it’s Harry’s photographs he’s most interested in. 

“I like natural elements and unstaged portraits, candids, capturing people when they’re not posing,” Harry offers by way of explaining his style. 

“They’re gorgeous, Haz. Really gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Lou. I really enjoy it. It’s just a shame my writing skills are so atrocious.”

“Oh, I dunno. Reckon you’re doing okay,” Louis says and wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders, clasping his hands over his heart. 

An idea suddenly sparks in Harry’s mind. “Would you…” he starts, bringing his hand up to stroke along Louis’ forearm. “Would you maybe like to help me with it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I can take the photographs and you can write the blog posts. We can do it together,” Harry turns his head and meets Louis’ gaze, he’s so close he could count every eyelash. “You said you always wanted to be a writer didn’t you?”

Louis closes the distance and kisses him, soft lips pressing into Harry’s, chaste and perfect. “You have the best ideas. Are you sure though? This is your thing and I don’t want to take that away from you if you’d prefer to go it alone.”

Harry pulls Louis around the chair into his lap, his boyfriend letting out a small squawk at being manhandled. He looks up into Louis’ eyes and smiles. “I’d love for you to be a part of it, for us to do it together.”

Louis caresses Harry’s cheek, stroking across his stubble. “Yeah? Well then, it’s a deal. We’ll do it together.”

“No going back.”

Louis chuckles. “No going back.”

Hello world! Louis here. Yes, Harry and I are now doing this blog thingy together. He’d kept it a secret from me, the little minx, but I caught him out last week and sat on him until he agreed I could do it with him. Alright, that’s not exactly how it happened, but I’m a sucker for the dramatics, as you’ll no doubt discover. So, from here on I’ll be writing most of these posts and Harry will focus on making them beautiful with his gorgeous photography. How talented is my boyfriend?

In case I was being too subtle there, go back and read that last sentence again... Yes, young Harold and I are now officially together. (Gives a satisfied sigh.) And all it took was being isolated on an island for two weeks and a broken bar heater to force us into sharing a bed. But based on the comments on Harry’s last post it seems that some of you may have suspected that’s where we’d ended up, so I figured why not shout it out to the world!

Right. What have we been up to? Uhm… we’ve been keeping ourselves busy indoors (stop it right now, get your minds out of the gutter!) while we wait for small breaks in the weather that allow us to tend to things outside. They’ve been few and far between, but we’ve made the most of them when they present themselves. I’ve finished this round of maintenance on the lighthouse and Harry has completed the refit of the boards on the verandah. Next up I’ll be doing a swap out of the solar panels and Haz will start the extension on the storage unit. They’re both huge jobs and will take us each the better part of the next month given how limited our outdoor working windows are.

I have a special date night planned for us once we get an evening with clear skies but don’t tell Haz! I’ll report back next time to let you all know how it went. Now, how does he sign these things off…?

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Louis submits the post and sends it off into the ether, closing his laptop and setting it on the coffee table. Harry had dozed off at the other end of the couch about an hour ago, head tilted back, and snoring softly. The sounds of the wind buffeting the cottage are still there, but they blend into the background more often than not now, mixing with the pounding of the ocean and crackles from the fire.

Louis lifts his feet off Harry’s lap and digs his toes under Harry’s thigh, jostling his slumbering Prince. He leans his head to the side, letting his eyes come to rest on Harry’s chiselled profile. He’s stunning and Louis often finds himself just staring at him, unable to believe he’s really real, that he’s here with him, together.

The last week or so has been more than Louis could ever have hoped for. Harry is just… well, he’s perfect. Kind and funny and smart and affectionate, so affectionate. Every morning, waking up in each other’s arms is like heaven. Their days are spent pottering around the cottage and the grounds, working, chatting, coming and going as the weather instructs them. It’s calm and easy and Louis honestly can’t remember ever being this happy. 

His old life seems like another world away. Lonely and unfulfilled, day after day of the mundane and mind-numbing, clients and hotels and conferences and same, same, same. Now each day is new and exciting, and sharing it all with Harry adds an extra layer of joy.

It should be too soon to call it love, logically he knows that, but logical, practical, by-the-numbers Louis has been cast aside in favour of the new and improved Louis he is now. Spontaneous and driven by emotion and desire and happiness. He has so much love inside him he feels like he’s going to burst, like it isn’t a finite amount, it just keeps swelling up and he’s certain he’s not going to be able to hold it in much longer.

Harry stirs, sliding his hand down onto Louis' ankles and seeming to drift off again, a small smile on his face. He’s so tactile is the thing, always needing to be touching Louis; hugging him, holding him, running his fingers over his skin whether clothed or bare. 

He’s excited for the date night he's planning, if the weather ever abates long enough for Louis to put his scheme into action. It’s brilliant, really. He’d been wandering around on the web and had come across a blog from a couple, Gloria and Wilhelm, who had previously been stationed on the island. One post, in particular, caught his eye. They’d managed to set up a projector and screened movies onto the outside of the lighthouse. Louis was intrigued and reached out to them through email to find out how they’d done it. Turns out, there was a projector in the back of the storage cupboard which can connect to a laptop using an HDMI cable. He’s picked the perfect movie and done a trial on the bedroom wall when Harry was out, now he just needs the fucking weather to get its shit together and give him a starry night to pull-off his romantic plan. 

He’s been emailing back and forth with his new friends sharing tales of life on the island. It’s been comforting, in a way, to hear about the challenges they’d faced and how they’d overcome the isolation, activities they’d used to pass the time during long stretches of bad weather, and how much deeper their relationship had become during their time here. Wilhelm took great joy in telling Louis about a keeper's tradition that he and Harry are definitely going to partake in at some point involving a nudie run from the cottage to the lighthouse, up to the weather station and back to the cottage again. He’s pretty sure they’ll freeze their balls off but it’ll be a helluva memory to make.

Harry stirs, smacking his lips together like a senior citizen who’s lost their dentures. It’s all kinds of adorable and Louis digs his toes further under his thigh as Harry scrubs his free hand down his face, a yawn escaping his mouth.

Harry rolls his head to the side, a smile blooming on his face when he focuses on Louis’ face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

Harry’s eyes crinkle as his smile grows, stretching out his long legs and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. “How long was I out for?”

“About an hour. By the way… you snore.”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath, expression morphing into horror. “I do not!”

Louis shrugs his shoulder. “Yeah, you do, but it’s awfully cute, so don’t worry. I’ll still sleep with you.”

“You’d sleep with me even if I did snore, which I don’t, just to be clear. You’d freeze to death without me.”

“Hmmmm…” Louis murmurs as he crawls over to Harry, straddling his thighs, and settling himself on his lap. “I don’t think I’d actually freeze to death, but wild horses couldn’t drag me away from your bed, regardless of how much you snore, so I guess we’ll never know.”

“Awwww Lou. You’re such a charmer.”

“Best salesperson in the Northern region, babe,” Louis says as he places his hands on Harry’s broad chest and bats his eyelids.

Harry chuckles, gripping onto Louis’ hips. “I was the best salesperson in the Northern region for my company too.”

Louis slides his hands up and cups Harry’s neck in his palms. “And look where we are now. On an island at the bottom of the globe with no one to sell anything to except each other. The irony abounds.”

“Well I’ll buy anything you’re selling,” Harry says and glides his hands up to the middle of Louis’ back, pulling him forwards. Louis goes easily, because of course he does.

“Reckon you’re a soft sell anyways,” Louis teases as he nuzzles into Harry’s neck. “All needy and desperate with those big, green, trusting eyes, ready to snatch up anything I have on offer.”

Harry angles his head back so Louis can gain better access. “You could sell me anything,” Harry says breathlessly. “I’m a f-fool for you, you know that.”

Louis sucks a bruise under Harry’s jaw, the taste of his skin salty, with a tinge of sweetness. “Mhmmmm… got you right where I want you.”

Harry runs his hands back down to Louis’ arse and tucks his fingertips under his waistband, sliding inside his sweatpants and grabbing two handfuls of cheeks, grinding up into him. “Yeah? Right where you want me?”

Louis scoots back a bit and pushes down, swivelling his pelvis, both of them letting out low groans as their clothed cocks get some glorious friction. Harry’s dry fingers press at Louis’ hole, just enough to make him feel the intent without breaching his rim. 

Harry stares up at Louis and cranes his neck, seeking out his lips. Louis can’t deny him what he wants and dives in, mouth open, sealing their lips together. It’s hot and wet from the outset. Teeth clashing together, saliva on their chins, tongues jostling for dominance, and breaths mingling. 

Louis whines needily into Harry’s mouth as he shoves his hands between them, pulling their cocks from their pants and wrapping both hands around the hardened lengths. Harry brings one hand back to their mouths and shoves two fingers past Louis’ spit-slicked lips. Louis sucks on them, getting them soaked as he strips their cocks.

“Fuck, Lou. _God_. You make me crazy,” Harry growls, removing his fingers and returning them to Louis’ hole, one finger snaking its way inside easily.

It’s fast and furious from then on, Harry pumping in and out as Louis works them over, foreheads pressed together, panted breaths against each other’s faces. 

Louis pushes back on Harry's hand and earns himself another finger for his troubles. “Can’t fucking get enough of you. So goddamn hot. Wanna do this all day and night,” Louis babbles out, barely making sense anymore, so overtaken with the passion and heat between them.

Harry crooks his fingers and finds Louis’ prostate, sending a jolt of electricity rampaging throughout his body. He’s become quite adept at locating it without any issue over the last week or so and Louis is forever grateful. Harry has this way of knowing exactly how much pressure is just on this side of too much that makes Louis’ blood flow like lava. Insistent to the point of painful, but never stepping over that line, letting Louis hang on the edge and at his mercy.

“Fuck, baby. Never thought I’d find someone like you. So perfect for me. This arse. These lips,” Harry says and seeks them out, biting in Louis’ top lip for extra emphasis. “All of you, inside and out.”

“Gonna come,” Louis manages to get out, upping the speed of his hands until they’re nothing more than a blur between them.

“Nrrrghhh… me too,” Harry says through gritted teeth. “Nearly. Fuck, nearly there.”

“Harry!” Louis cries out, desperate to let go, but he wants them to come together, so he holds his breath, arching his back and digging his thumbnail into Harry’s slit.

It only takes a few seconds before Harry’s body goes taut. “Yes! Fuck!” Harry yells and then freezes. Head flung onto the backrest. Mouth open on a silent scream. He jabs his fingers into Louis' prostate one last time and that, combined with the sight of Harry’s reaction to his orgasm is all Louis needs to follow him over the edge, careening into the abyss. He slumps forward, head buried in Harry’s chest, lungs gasping for air, come pumping out of their cocks and all over his hands.

Louis comes back to himself slowly, Harry withdrawing his fingers from his hole. He’s nice and loose now and would very much like to take advantage of the situation and have Harry fuck his brains out. He wonders how hard he’ll have to try to convince Harry.

He pushes at Harry’s chest, lifting himself back up to a sitting position and wiping his come-covered hands on his shirt. “So… baby, huh?” Louis says, arching a brow.

Harry opens one eye and looks sheepishly at Louis, “Shit, sorry. Is that okay?”

Louis waggles his eyebrows. “Mhmmm… I quite like it actually…”

Harry beams, sliding his hands under Louis' arse and standing, hiking Louis up into his arms and heading off the direction of their bedroom. “Good. Because there’s lots more where that came from.”

Louis giggles and snuggles into Harry’s embrace. “Oh really?”

“Yup! Babycakes, sugar plum, sunshine of my life, sweetums, the list is practically endless.”

Harry slows as he walks them into the bedroom and Louis clicks on the bar heater in a now practised routine before Harry lays him down on the unmade bed. Harry strips his clothes off and then makes quick work of Louis’, joining him under the covers. 

Louis turns on his side. “Never really had anyone call me pet names before but I think I’ll like it coming from you. I think I like most things coming from you actually.”

Harry smiles broadly and leans in for a kiss. “So, you tired?”

“Absolutely exhausted,” Louis says with a sigh, his mouth morphing into a smirk. “Don’t reckon I’ll be wanting to get out of this bed for _days_.”

Harry grins back at him. “Did I mention how perfect you are?”

“Think I remember you saying something about that, yeah. Might have to remind me though.”

Harry rolls over on top of him, slotting himself between Louis’ spread legs. “That can definitely be arranged.”

Harry leans down and kisses him, soft and wet and all kinds lovely, tingles reaching to the tips of Louis’ fingers and toes. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and his legs around his hips and sighs into Harry’s mouth. He’s so blissfully happy, so sated, so secure, he actually thinks he could stay here for days, or even forever. Yeah, it feels a lot like love and perhaps that isn’t as foreign a concept as he thought. What’s there to be afraid of anyway? This is Harry. His Harry. His boyfriend. God. Even thinking it to himself makes a zip of arousal course through his body. He hasn’t loved anyone in a long time, or maybe he never has. The emotions he’s starting to feel for Harry are like none he’s ever experienced. So strong and sure. So clear. A future is already starting to paint itself in Louis’ mind, still taking shape, but there’s one thing that’s certain, one image that stands out from everything else. Harry. He struggles to even see a future without him in it and while it’s a bit scary, it’s also the most perfect thing he can imagine.

“Perfect,” Louis says and kisses along Harry’s jawline. “Perfect.”

Hello fans and new friends! Well, well, well. Our little corner of the Internet has certainly been buzzing since our last post. Thanks for all the lovely messages and oddly keen interest in mine and Harry’s relationship. Not sure why you’re so invested but it’s been very sweet of you all. We’re doing well, still in our little bubble or ‘honeymoon phase’ as some of you have been calling it.

Needless to say Harry _did_ see the last blog post so the cat’s out of the bag on the whole date night thing and it’s been a source of endless questions ever since. But I’m staying tight-lipped no matter what underhanded methods he tries to get me to give it up. Short-sheeting the bed? Really Haz? The big dufus perhaps forgot that he sleeps in the same bed. Threatening to withhold his cooking was another failed attempt which was simply countered by me threatening to withhold something else… I’m quite sure I don’t need to spell that one out. Needless to say, our _hunger_ has been well satisfied on all fronts.

We’re nearing the end of our first month on the island and what an amazing experience it’s been. Every day presents new challenges and joys. Just yesterday, we were visited by a Peregrine Falcon, stopping by to shelter from the weather on our verandah. Today, the storms abated enough for us to trek down to a small inlet to watch a parade of Little Penguins over the smooth rocks and up onto the sand. It was really quite something.

We received our first supply drop from the mainland, Grant flying over with Alex in tow for a visit and to check-in on how we were going. We got a tick of approval for all the work we’d managed to get done which was nice too. It was great to see other humans after so long, but weirdly both Harry and I were relieved when they left and it was just the two of us again. We’ve become quite accustomed to our little bubble and so the intrusion was a bit of a shock to the system. God knows how we’re going to be in another five months from now!

The forecast for tomorrow is for… wait for it… clear skies! I’m hopeful that I’ll finally be able to treat Harry to that special date night, so stay tuned ;)

Until next time...

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Louis reads over the post one last time and hits submit. Seven hundred and twenty subscribers. Amazing. 

“Lou?”

“Hmmm…?” Louis looks up to find Harry standing in the kitchen, pepper grinder in his hands. “Sorry, Haz. What did you ask?”

“Did you want pepper on your pasta?”

“Mmmmm… yes please,” Louis replies as he shuts the lid of his laptop, pushing it aside and getting off the couch. The mouthwatering aroma of parmesan cheese, herbs and chilli waft in the air and draw Louis in. “Smells fantastic.”

“S’just pasta, baby,” Harry says with a small shrug. And yeah, Louis is Harry’s baby apparently. Baby, honey, angel, sweetcheeks. Harry was right, the list really is practically endless. Louis likes the other ones he calls him too, especially when Harry’s balls deep in him. At those times, the pet names get slightly more filthy, but no less affectionate.

“I love that you think your cooking is no big deal,” Louis says as he grabs their wine glasses and a half-finished bottle of red from the pantry. “If it was left up to me we’d be eating beans from a tin every night.”

“Not true! You made that fried rice one night,” Harry offers supportively. Bless him. “That was scrummy.”

Louis shakes his head and hip checks his idiot of a boyfriend. “Don’t be ridiculous. I put in way too much soy sauce and undercooked the rice so badly that it resembled a fucking salt-lick. We binned almost the entire thing.”

“You just need practice, Lou,” Harry says kindly. “You’d be great if you just gave yourself a chance.”

Louis wanders over to the table and sets the glasses down, pouring them some wine. “You’re too sweet to me. I’m a disaster, but that’s okay. Luckily I have you to feed me.”

Harry comes over with their steaming bowls of food and sits down. “I love feeding you. Makes me feel... good. Like I’m caring for you.”

“Well, I love having you feed me, so it’s a win-win.”

Harry’s gone all soft and shy and Louis loves when he’s like this. He loves all versions of him actually. But this one is a definite favourite. Love. There’s that word again. It’s become very apparent over the last couple of weeks that Louis is completely, totally, helplessly in love with Harry. He just hasn’t told him yet. But that’s all going to change tomorrow if the damn weather keeps its shit together and lets him roll out his date night plan.

They eat in companionable silence as the wind whips around the cottage, making it creak and groan. The firelight is casting shadows across the room from their last load of laundry that’s strung up all around them. Hanging it outside in the unpredictable wind is a fool’s game and Louis has the mismatched socks to prove it.

Dinner and dishes done, they settle in for a night by the fireside taking up their usual spots, Harry at one end of the couch and Louis facing sideways with his toes under Harry’s thigh. Harry’s researching planter box constructions and Louis is reading the diesel generator manual to troubleshoot an issue with the engine interface. Riveting stuff, but necessary work.

“So… the weather is looking promising for tomorrow,” Harry comments, laptop open and resting on his knees. To someone not familiar with Harry’s ways they might think it's a woeful attempt at small talk, but Louis understands him well enough by now to know he’s got a purpose.

“Yeah. Saw that,” Louis replies without looking up from his book. “Should be able to get out and strike some stuff off our list.”

“Mmmm… supposed to be quite warm too. Even after sunset.”

Louis smirks to himself. So Harry’s read the latest blog post then. “Hopefully. Be nice not to snap freeze when we get out of the shower.”

Louis stifles a giggle behind his hand as Harry huffs out a frustrated breath. “I hate you.”

“Awwwww babe, no you don’t. You just lack patience.”

“Oh my god! What’s the date night?!” Harry shouts as he flings his hands in the air and that’s about all Louis can take, laughter bursting out of him uncontrollably.

“Nope! You have to wait, oh eager one.”

“Nrggghhhh…” Harry growls and whacks Louis in the shins with a throw cushion. “Maybe I won’t even come on your dumb date,” he says petulantly.

“Well now, that would be silly, wouldn’t it? Then you’ll never know what a lovely romantic evening I had planned for you.”

Harry snaps his head around. “It’s romantic?”

“Of _course_ it is, you numpty. Wouldn’t be a proper date without a heaping dose of romance.”

“ _Lou…_ ” Harry whines, setting his laptop on the table and crawling along the couch between Louis’ legs. Louis drops the manual on the floor, he’ll find his place later, right now he has other, far more important things to manage, namely a lap full of Harry.

Harry lays on his stomach, fingers steepled under his chin, resting on Louis' tummy and looking up at him with wide eyes. “Hello there,” Louis murmurs, brushing a few wayward curls behind Harry’s ear.

“Hi yourself. Why are you teasing me like this? You’re such a meanie,” Harry says with a dramatic pout.

Louis chuckles and Harry’s head bounces up and down. “Don’t you like surprises?”

“Not when they go on for this long. You’re killing me, Lou. Come on, gimme a hint.”

Louis shakes his head. “Do you not understand how surprises work?”

Harry frowns and lifts his head, untangling his fingers and dipping the tips under the waistband of Louis’ sweatpants. Louis can see where this is going, Harry’s not exactly subtle, but he’s not about to stop him from trying to incentivize the reveal of information, as futile as that effort may be.

“Oh, I understand,” Harry mutters, a wry smile appearing on his face. “But it wouldn't hurt to give me a teensy, tiny, little hint... surely?”

Harry sits back on his heels and drags Louis pants down his thighs, exposing his soft cock to the warm air. He leans over and picks up Louis’ manual from the floor, handing it to him as Louis furrows his brows in confusion. “What’re you playing at?”

“Who me?” Harry asks, all faux innocence and voice like honey. He shuffles himself down the couch, and lays on his stomach again, knees bent and socked feet dangling in the air. “Not sure what you mean. Anyway, you should get back to reading your manual,” he says dismissively. “I’m just gonna amuse myself for a bit.”

Louis has no idea what Harry’s planning but he’s not about to give in. He finds his place, determinedly ignoring Harry’s proximity to his cock, the manual aiding the situation by blocking his view.

“Not at all. Help yourself,” Louis replies and tries his best to focus on the words staring back at him.

Harry’s humming some tune, hot breath fanning out over Louis’ groin but he wills himself not to get hard and give Harry the satisfaction of riling him up. He’s just not sure how long that will last.

Harry rests his cheek on Louis’ upper thigh and sighs contentedly, fingers trailing the length of Louis’ cock, not stroking, just shifting it over to his waiting mouth, the warmth and wetness enveloping him inside. Louis expects Harry to start sucking him off, but instead, he just settles down, mouth full of Louis, unmoving. Louis waits, reading over the same sentence numerous times without absorbing a single word.

Harry rolls onto his side, hiking Louis’ leg up and over his hips, mouth staying slack, but tight enough to keep Louis’ cock in place. Arousal is building in his gut, sparks of electricity shooting down to his toes and making the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention.

Louis goes back to reading, actually taking in the words now, as Harry just lays there, keeping his cock nice and warm for a few minutes.

“Read to me,” Harry says around his cock, words a garbled mess but just clear enough to understand.

Louis lifts the edge of the pages and peeks at Harry and that’s… _that’s_ an image that will stay with him for a long time. His spit slick lips, wrapped around the base of his cock, a look of pure bliss on his face. It’s, well it’s a lot, is the thing.

“You want me to read to you about the diesel generator engine interface,” Louis deadpans.

“Mhmmm…,” Harry murmurs around his cock, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Louis' pubic hair.

Louis snickers. “Alrighty then.” Louis clears his throat dramatically. “The Engine Interface Module is a sealed, engine mounted module that provides switching relays for the Starter Motor Solenoid, Glow Plug and Fuel Solenoid.”

Harry starts humming, low and constant. Louis tenses as the vibrations travel through his cock and balls and into his gut. He’s not going to be able to maintain his composure if he keeps doing that but he isn’t ready to give in just yet.

“Each of these circuits is protected with individual fuses mounted in the module.”

Harry reaches under Louis’ thigh and slides his hand to cup Louis’ balls, not moving, just holding them in his palm.

“Individual LEDs illuminate when each circuit is energised.”

The low hum Harry is emitting increases in strength and Louis’ traitorous dick twitches in response. He can _feel_ the smirk on Harry's face and he tries to tamp down his arousal, focusing on the words in front of him.

“There are two versions of the Engine Interface Module available. EIM basic and EIM plus.”

Harry swirls his tongue around his cock and Louis grits his teeth. He wills it to behave, but this was never going to be a game he could win, and it starts to harden up as Harry moves his head in a tiny bobbing motion. 

“The EIM basic is utilised in conjunction with con- control panels equipped with...” Louis trails off, eyes closing as he gets caught up in the slow glide of Harrys lips and tongue. He’s just getting into it when Harry stops. Louis furrows his brow and looks around the manual to see what’s going on. Harry is simply gazing up at him, eyebrows raised.

“The EMI basic…” Louis says and Harry bobs down.

“...is utilised in conjunction…” Harry bobs back up again.

That bastard. So this is the actual game then. He has to keep reading otherwise Harry stops blowing him. Clever. But Louis can totally match him, now that he knows what the rules are.

“...with control panels equipped with overspeed shutdown. The EIM plus is used in conjunction with control panels not equipped with overspeed shutdown.”

Harry grins around him as best he can and increases his speed, rolling his balls in his palm. Louis is almost fully hard now and Harry is starting to strain a bit as he takes him further toward the back of his throat, his humming turning into something more akin to a low moan.

“The EIM Plus monitors the speed signal from the magnetic pick-up. If the engine…” Louis’ breath hitches as Harry tongues into his slit and tugs on his balls, a dry finger sliding down to his hole. There’s no intent behind it, but the pressure is enough to bump things up a notch, Louis' toes curling and his brain short-circuiting briefly.

Harry stills again, mouth and hands going lax.

“ _Fuck_ , okay,” Louis huffs out and Harry’s chest stutters with a stifled laugh. Louis is going to smother him in his sleep. “Shit.” He can’t find his place, vision blurry, words blending together. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, clearing the fog. “Right. If the engine speed rises above a certain pre-...”

Harry sucks on him hard and Louis bucks up involuntarily, hitting the back of his throat. “...pre-setable value, the module sends a zero volt signal to the generator set control panel to activate the overspeed fault circuitry.”

Harry really starts to work him over now, taking him down fully and then sliding back up to massage the veins on the underside of his cock with his tongue. Louis' hands are trembling as he tries to hold the manual still. 

“The overspeed set point is factory set at fifty-five hertz for fifty hertz sets and… and… oh _fuck_.”

Harry curls the finger between his cheeks, prodding the rim with his knuckle, the tip just plugging the opening so he has something to clench against. 

“Sixty-six hertz for sixty hertz sets,” Louis says breathlessly, hips undulating, cock deep in Harry’s throat, balls drawn tight in his hand.

“This can be adjusted using the adjustment _screw_ accessed through the _hole_ beside the overspeed set-up LED. _Christ_ , babe. Fuck.”

He’s close. So close. He can’t concentrate anymore. Harry wins. He doesn’t care. He throws the manual onto the floor and threads his fingers into Harry's hair, gripping his head on either side and thrusting up into his hot wet mouth. Harry doesn’t stop this time, just keeps a tight suction as he takes everything Louis is giving him.

They lock eyes, Harry’s wet with tears and he’s the most beautiful thing Louis has ever seen.

“Yeah, that’s it. Taking me so well. Ah _fuck_. So well. So gorgeous. So perfect.”

Harry whimpers and closes his eyes tightly, a shudder running through his body, breath held as Louis thrusts up once, twice more, and then he’s coming. His vision whites out in a single burst of light behind his eyelids. Harry gags slightly and Louis feels him swallow around him, drinking him down.

Louis relaxes his hands and Harry pulls back, licking and sucking his cock, cleaning him up. He drifts for a blissful few moments, breathing coming under control and he opens his eyes to find a very smug looking Harry staring right back at him.

Louis rolls his eyes and flicks him on the forehead. “You’re a right bastard, you know that?”

Harry blows a raspberry into his groin in retaliation and Louis squeals. Harry just grins at him. “Fuck off. You loved it.”

“Well, you definitely get points for creativity,” Louis says and strokes his fingers down the side of Harry’s cheek.

Harry leans into the touch like a bloody cat. “Love blowing you. You’ve got, like, the perfect sized cock for my mouth.”

“Have I now?”

“Mhmmm… perfect,” Harry purrs, not doing anything to contradict Louis’ cat comparison.

“I take it you’ve sorted yourself out?”

Harry chuckles. “Uhm… yeah.”

“Did I mention I love blowing you?”

“You might’ve,” Louis says and guides Harry’s head up, leaning down to draw him in for a chaste kiss. 

Harry pulls away and climbs over Louis’ outstretched leg, getting to his feet as Louis lifts his hips and drags his sweatpants back up. He takes Harry’s offered hand and lets himself be led into the bathroom.

They go through their nightly routine in a relaxed silence and when they crawl into bed Louis tucks himself into Harry’s side, sharing a goodnight kiss before Louis flicks off the lamp.

He feels warm and fuzzy and very, very much in love with his boyfriend. Now he just has to tell him. Here’s hoping the weather cooperates as predicted tomorrow night so he can finally take Harry on that date under the stars.

~~~~

The sun is shining, the skies are clear, and the weather forecast is for a starry night, so, of course, Harry is being a right menace; following Louis around, watching his every move, not letting him out of his sight for a second.

Louis has managed to collect most of what he’ll need but there’s no way he’ll be able to prepare dinner without Harry noticing. He decides to enlist Harry’s help, partly because he could do with his far superior culinary skills, and partly because it allows him to keep Harry occupied while he does the last few bits of set up.

Harry launches into the task eagerly and proceeds to whip them up an impressive spread for the picnic; a braided loaf of olive and cheese bread, pesto pasta and chicken wraps, and some brownies for dessert. Louis adds wine to the picnic basket and makes them a thermos of coffee with some whiskey added for good measure. 

While Harry is occupied, Louis secretly loads up his duffle bag with his laptop, the electric lantern, the projector, a tarp for the damp ground and some blankets and pillows to make it comfortable. He also manages to sneak into the bedroom to grab their lube and a condom, if the night goes as he’s planned he’s hoping to make love to Harry under the stars. 

The sun has set and Harry is pacing around the small cottage, going back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom, asking what he should wear and what they should take as though they’re going on some epic trek. It’s utterly endearing and Louis is enjoying it immensely. Harry, on the other hand, is working himself into a state of near-hysteria.

“Do I need to bring a bag with extra clothes and shoes?” Harry asks as he comes back out from the bedroom, eyes wild, running his fingers through his hair.

“Babe. We’re not going on a trip. What you’re wearing is fine.”

“I just want to be prepared and you won’t _tell_ me what we’re doing so how am I supposed to know?” His expression is more akin to a grumpy kitten at this point and Louis realises they’re going to have to kick this off before Harry completely implodes.

Louis walks over to him and reaches out, taking both his hands in his, rubbing circles over his knuckles soothingly. “I know, and I’m sorry for all the secrecy. I just want it to be special, yeah?”

Harry looks exasperated. “I know. I’m just excited.”

Louis nods and rises up on his toes, pecking a kiss to Harry’s lips. “Wanna get going?”

Harry’s face breaks into a broad smile, childlike in his excitement. “Yeah? Can we?”

Louis chuckles. “Mhmmm… come on. Get your winter gear on and we’ll head off.”

Harry squeals and takes off, getting dressed in record time. Louis shucks his coat on, pulling his beanie onto his head and slides his feet into his sheepskin-lined leather boots as Harry stands at the door, picnic basket in hand, tapping his foot impatiently.

Louis collects his duffle bag from behind the couch, the only hiding place he could find, stepping up beside Harry and opening the door.

“Ohhhh, what’ve you got in there?” Harry asks, craning his neck to try and get a peek inside.

“Never you mind, Mr Curiosity,” Louis says and walks out into the verandah. “Honestly, your poor parents. You must’ve made Christmas a nightmare. Did they ever manage to surprise you?”

Harry leaps down the steps and spins around, walking backwards as they head down the path. “Nope! Not once. Well, maybe when I was _really_ little. When I was five I decided Santa was made up so I hid in the living room to catch who put the presents out. Mum came down to sneak them under the tree and I launched out from behind the couch and shouted ‘Got you!’. Scared the shit out of her.”

Louis lets out a full-throated laugh. “You were a horrible child.”

“I was an angel!”

“Debatable.”

Harry turns around to face the right way, practically skipping along beside Louis. "Where are we going? Come on, Lou. You can tell me now,” he says and nudges Louis’ shoulder.

“Alright. Guess you’ve waited long enough.” Louis points toward the lighthouse, the beacon shining brightly out to sea as it spins in the lantern room high atop the tower.

“Ohhhh, are we having our picnic up on the walkway?”

“Nah. I’ve got something much better planned.”

Louis leads them over to the small clearing where the grass is shorter near the rocky outcrop, sheltered from the wind. It’s like a tiny pavilion backed into the rock face. He sets the duffle bag down and brings out the tarp, blankets, pillows, and the electric lantern, turning it on to give them some light.

“This is lovely, Lou,” Harry says, fidgeting at his side.

“Yeah. It’s nice here. Wanna set us up for dinner?”

Harry nods and kneels down, opening the basket as Louis lays out the tarp, spreading one of the blankets on top and piling the pillows against the rocks, using them like a bedhead. 

While Harry’s busy, Louis grabs the laptop and fires it up, angling it towards him and plugging the projector into the USB slot, hiding it behind the screen. 

“Music? Nice,” Harry says as he notices the laptop, pouring them each a mug of wine, the flat-bottomed cups easier to balance on the uneven ground.

“Not exactly.”

Harry frowns in confusion and Louis grins, adjusting the projector until the image is cast up onto the white wall of the lighthouse, at least twenty feet tall, bright and clear and perfect. He nods towards it and Harry tracks his gaze. The New Line Cinema logo appears, followed by Ryan Gosling’s name in the bottom left-hand corner, and then the familiar red and orange sunset with the little rowboat on the river.

“Oh my god. Louis!” Harry gasps and Louis can’t help the smug expression that creeps across his face. He knows that The Notebook is Harry’s favourite movie, he’s made that abundantly clear. They’ve already watched it a few times since arriving on the Island but in Louis’ humble opinion, and he’s sure Harry would concur, you can never get too much of Ryan Gosling.

“You like?” Louis asks, knowing the answer already but milking the moment anyway.

Harry turns to him, eyes wide, and cheeks rosy from the cold night air. “You… I can’t even… Holy shit!”

Harry launches at him, narrowly avoiding their mugs of wine and wraps his arms around Louis' neck, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, and their noses collide roughly, but Louis doesn’t care. Harry’s happy and that’s all that matters. All he ever wants is to make him happy, for the rest of their lives, if possible.

Louis is overcome with the desperate need to tell Harry how he feels. That he makes every single day better than he could’ve imagined, that he brings Louis a sense of peace and calm that he’d never envisioned, that he can’t even see a future without him in it, beside him, together, always.

Louis pulls away and pauses the movie, taking Harry’s face in his hands and looking deep into his eyes, wet with unshed tears of joy and he knows now is the moment.

“Harry. I don’t know what I did right in this life, or the ones that came before to bring you to me, but I’m so, so grateful. I love waking up with you every morning and curling up together every night, safe and warm in your arms. You’re like no one I’ve ever met. You make me smile and laugh. You’re kind and loving and goofy and smart and so perfect for me that I wanna shout from the rooftops every day at how thankful I am to have found you,” Louis pauses for breath and to wipe away the tears that have started to spill from Harry’s eyes and onto his cheeks. “Harry, I love you. I love you so fucking much, sometimes I think my heart is going to burst out of my chest. And it’s okay if you’re not ready to say it back, I just wanted you to know how I-“

Harry surges forward, peppering kisses on Louis’ mouth and cheeks and eyes. “I love you too. _God_. I love you so much,” Harry hiccups out a sob, collapsing into Louis' chest and pushing him down onto the blanket.

Louis’ heart is pounding, threatening to beat out of his rib cage. He pulls him in closer and rubs soothing circles into his back. “Shhhh… baby. Don’t cry, yeah?”

“H-happy tears, Lou. So happy.”

Louis holds him tight and they lay there for a while, the movie playing on the lighthouse almost forgotten as they take in the enormity of their confessions.

“Been holding that in for bloody ages,” Louis says with a soft chuckle.

Harry raises up on his elbow, sniffling, and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah? How long? Bet I can beat you,” he says with a wry smile.

“Weeks, I reckon. You?”

“Well, don’t freak out. But maybe, like, our second day on the island?” Harry looks away, shy and unsure of himself and that simply won’t do. Truth be told, Louis has been falling for just as long.

Louis reaches up and strokes his cheek, turning Harry’s head back to face him. “Same, babe. Same.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes are filled with hope and innocence and so much love that Louis wonders once again how he got so lucky. 

“Yeah. You’re it for me.”

“Oh, Lou,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he leans down and burrows into Louis' neck, tears dampening his skin. “Me too.”

Louis scooches up, pulling Harry with him until their backs are up against the rock face, blankets pooled around their waists. “Come on. Let’s watch Ryan and have this lovely dinner you’ve made for us. Then, when we’re done,” Louis leans in and presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek, whispering into his ear. “I’m going to make love to you.”

A full-body shiver vibrates through Harry’s body. “Out here?” Harry asks, turning to Louis, eyes wide. “We’ll freeze our arses off,” he adds with a giggle.

“I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart,” Louis murmurs.

Harry sighs contentedly. “I love you, quite a lot, very much a lot, actually.”

Louis chuckles. “I love you very much a lot too.” 

“S’nice to say it out loud. Thought I was going to explode if I didn’t get to say it soon. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“Never,” Louis assures him, taking his hand and bringing it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles before looking intently into his eyes. “You could _never_ scare me away. I promise.”

“Ugh. You’re gonna make me cry again,” Harry whines sweetly and ducks his head, nuzzling at Louis' jaw.

“Alright. Dinner. Movie.”

“Then sex?”

“Yes, love. Just like a proper date,” Louis says with a smirk and Harry playfully swats him in the chest. 

They eat their meals, and drink their wine, moving onto the whiskey-laced coffee and brownies as Allie and Noah fall in love up on the big screen of their open-air theatre. The countless stars of the Milky Way blanket them from above as they snuggle together, the heat from their bodies warding off the chill of the night air.

When Allie and Noah pass away peacefully together in their sleep, after a lifetime of loving each other so completely, so wholly, Louis pulls Harry in a little tighter, and they both shed more than a few tears.

As the credits roll, Harry slides down onto his side, Louis following and pulling the blankets up over their heads. Their breaths are warm on each other’s skin, the light from the lamp shining through just enough so Louis can make out Harry’s features.

Harry pillows his head on his hands and looks at Louis like he holds the answers to the universe. “I’d always hoped I’d find that. A love so strong and pure, so all-encompassing that it would last a lifetime and beyond.”

“Me too,” Louis concurs. “But I think I was… I was losing hope, I guess. I couldn’t see how I would find it, in the life I was leading. You know?”

“Mmmm… I felt the same way. Being on the road all the time. The hotels and conferences. Just, like, passing through, never having a place to call home. It was wearing me down.”

“Yeah. I get that. I was always pinning my hopes on the future. You know? As though I was gonna fix it later. Everything was always, tomorrow or next week or next year. But I was never doing anything to bring any of that closer to being a reality. To make it now, instead of some far-flung dream.”

“And all it took was a few too many drinks and a FaceBook alert to change all of that,” Harry says with a shy smile.

Louis leans in and presses a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “For me, all it took was you.”

“You’re such a sap,” Harry says with a smile and licks into Louis’ mouth. 

“Guilty,” Louis murmurs onto Harry's tongue, sliding his hands around Harry’s waist and under his jumper, digging further until he reaches Harry's warm skin. Harry flinches at the touch of Louis’ cold fingers before relaxing into it, sighing happily. “Want to you fuck me, nice and slow, under the stars.”

Harry groans, hands finding purchase on Louis’ arse, tongue delving deeper into his mouth. Their socked feet tangle under the blankets as Louis shifts his hips back, reaching between them to undo Harry’s button and flies. Harry slides his hands down the back of Louis’ sweatpants, pushing them down and then off with his foot. “We’re leaving our socks on, I don’t care how unromantic it is.”

Louis giggles and dispenses with Harry’s jeans. “Agreed. The stars are nice but let’s not get frostbite.” 

He rolls over and wriggles back against Harry’s chest, Harry’s cock already hardening up against him. He peeks out of their cocoon, letting in the cold air briefly as he drags his duffle bag over and searches blindly for the lube and condom he’d packed earlier. He hands them to Harry over his shoulder, earning a soft chuckle.

“I see you thought of everything.”

“Figured you were a sure thing,” Louis says and cranes his neck back for a kiss, lifting his leg and resting his foot on his calf, giving Harry easier access.

“Hmmmm… cheeky, but true.” Harry flips the cap of the lube and Louis hears the tell-sound of Harry squeezing some out. “This is gonna be cold, baby.”

Louis nods and braces himself as Harry glides his hand down between Louis’ legs, slick fingers finding his hole and teasing gently at the puckered skin. It’s cold, but not terribly so, and Louis just breathes through it.

Harry takes his time, working him up to three fingers, kissing and nipping and sucking at his neck and at the sensitive spot just behind his ear. Louis is going out of his mind. The enclosed space and amplified sounds of their breathing, added to all the emotion of the evening, catching up and becoming overwhelming.

“I’m ready. Fuck. Want you in me, now.”

“Alright, baby. Alright.” Harry removes his fingers and rolls the condom on, slicking up his cock and sliding it up and down Louis’ crack, slow and languid, like they have all the time in the world. Louis reaches around and guides Harry’s hips, squeezing his cheek in time with his movements, trying to move things along.

Harry pulls his jumper aside and bites down on his shoulder, angling his hips just right so the head of his cock catches on Louis’ rim. They both suck in sharp breaths as Harry pushes forward and past the tight ring of muscle. He slots one arm under Louis’ head and lays his hand over his heart, the other hand sliding under Louis’ knee to hold him open and give him access to Louis’ cock. He starts stroking it, firm and sure.

“Come on, Haz,” Louis says and turns his head, seeking out Harry’s lips, rewarded with a chaste kiss. “Make love to me,” he whispers.

“God,” Harry groans. “Do you even know how fucking hot that sounds?” Harry slides in slowly, maintaining his pace on Louis’ cock and keeping him hard. “So tight. So perfect for me.”

Louis whines high in his throat as Harry bottoms out. They catch their breaths as Louis adjusts, Harry whispering loving words of praise and adoration into his ear.

Louis relaxes quickly and starts shifting his hips back and forth, a long moan spilling from Harry’s lips as he lets Louis control things for now. It doesn’t last long though, Harry taking over and thrusting in and out, speed increasing as he chases their high. 

Harry’s managed to find the perfect angle and is hitting Louis’ prostate like it, and Harry’s cock, are magnetized. Louis uses his free hand to brace himself, pushing back to provide a counter to Harry’s movements, the slick sounds of Harry’s motions and their laboured breathing filling the confined space. He’s dizzy with it, his impending orgasm building within, threatening to explode.

“Wanna come, Haz. Need to.”

“Okay, baby. Okay,” Harry murmurs, upping the speed of his thrusts and stripping Louis’ cock furiously, taking him to the edge of oblivion.

It hits him like a wave crashing on the shore; hard and all-consuming. Louis cries out, shuddering through it as Harry seeks out his own release. He follows quickly, pulling Louis into him, impossibly closer, tighter, bodies and souls becoming one.

“Fucking hell,” Louis says when he can finally breathe again.

“Right?” Harry giggles behind him, jostling his cock and making Louis clench down in retaliation. Harry takes the hint and pulls out, getting rid of the condom somewhere, although Louis currently doesn’t care where, that’s a problem for when he’s capable of functioning properly.

Louis turns over in Harry’s embrace, shuffling forwards and out of the wet patch he’s created, another problem for later. “It smells like sex in here.”

Harry snorts out a laugh and it’s all kinds of endearing so Louis rewards him with a long, deep kiss, he’s definitely earned it.

They finally break apart and Harry looks lovingly into Louis' eyes. “Making love is... different. Like, it’s still the same process, but it’s more? I’ve never been in love with anyone before, not like this anyway, and I get it now.”

“I guess all the hype was real after all. Who would’ve thought?”

Harry lifts the blankets off their heads and rolls onto his back, Louis tucking himself under his arm, head pillowed on his chest. Harry rubs circles on Louis' lower back as they both gaze up at the stars. “Allie and Noah were definitely onto something.”

“Mmmmm… they really were.”

They lay there for a while, talking in hushed tones, letting the evening’s events settle under their skin. When they finally decide to pack up and head back to the cottage, the moon is high in the night sky, shining brightly and lighting their way. A shooting star catches Louis’ attention and he makes a wish to have this amazing, wonderful, kind, loving man by his side for the rest of his life. And as they curl around each other in bed, warm and sated and happy, Louis thinks maybe, just maybe, his wish might come true.


	5. The Language Of Love

Hello, fans and friends. I see a lot of you have been eagerly awaiting an update on our date night and we’re sorry to have kept you all in suspense. (Not really, but Harry said I had to apologize.)

Did the weather hold off? Did I manage to keep it a secret from Harry? Did he enjoy it? Well, as you can see from the picture, I can happily report that the answers to those questions are yes, yes, and yes!

Harry sneakily tried to extract information from me but I held firm and it was definitely worth it. It also provided the perfect opportunity to tell him that I loved him (cue the swoons) and I felt like the luckiest man alive when he told me he loved me right back. 

Of course, that might all come to a screeching halt when we finally crack open the scrabble board… so hopefully this won’t be the last update ;)

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Domestic bliss is… well… blissful. Harry’s not sure he’s ever felt so happy. Each day brings new levels of joy he never thought possible. It’s the simple things really; waking up together, sharing meals, doing chores, sitting by the fire, little touches, warm embraces. Harry’s not sure how he got so lucky. How is it possible that Louis was just out there living his life and no one had snapped him up? Louis assures him that the universe was just waiting for the right time to bring them together. Harry heartily agrees.

The dishes are done and Harry is making their tea as Louis sets up the scrabble board. They’ve held off until now, not wanting to reveal their competitive natures, but the weather has been horrible for the last couple of weeks, pretty much since their date night and that’s yet another demonstration of the universe doing them a solid. And what a night it had been. Hearing those three words spill from Louis’ lips had opened the floodgates and now they can’t stop saying it. Harry’s never been so enraptured with another person before and he’s sure, deep down in his soul, that Louis is it for him. He can’t imagine a life without being by Louis’ side and he wouldn’t want to, not even for a second. He’s the kindest, most loving man, better than he could’ve ever dreamed up. Yeah, the universe definitely nailed it.

“Do you have a preference for tiles upside down on the table or left in the bag?”

Harry takes their tea bags out and dumps them in the bin. “In the bag, I think. Not fussed though.”

“Hmmmm… okay. Bag it is,” Louis replies as Harry wanders over and sets their mugs down on the coffee table. The wind is absolutely howling outside, a nasty storm is on its way and they’re getting a hint of what’s to come. It’s supposed to last a few days so they’d spent much of the afternoon stacking firewood inside and battening down the hatches as best they could.

Louis has the board set up ready to go, cushions on the floor and blankets nearby for when it gets colder, later on, a pile of snacks at the ready. A dictionary they’d found on the bookshelf serving as their reference. It’s twenty years old, but they’d decided that just upped the difficulty level.

“Did you finish the blog post?”

“Yup! Gave the thirsty masses what they were after.”

Harry chuckles and sits down, cross-legged. “Exactly how sappy were you?”

Louis looks up and smiles broadly. “Pretty woeful. They’ll love it, I’m sure. Now come along, young Harold. You ready for a good old fashioned arse whipping, Tommo style?”

“Tommo style?”

“Yes. Tommo style,” Louis says with a curt nod.

Harry grins. “Bring it on, baby.”

Louis shakes the bag of tiles and holds it out for Harry to select one. “Let the game begin,” Louis says with a raise of his eyebrows.

They both take a single tile to determine who goes first. The closest to A kicking things off. Harry gets a B and Louis an S so Harry’s already winning. They return the tiles to the bag and Louis shakes it up, then they each take their seven tiles and arrange them on their racks.

Harry’s got a decent mix of consonants and vowels with an X being his most challenging tile. It’s going to be like taking candy from a baby.

It’s not like taking candy from a baby.

Louis whips his arse in the first three games and Harry’s head is spinning. He has this tactic of using two-letter words alongside other words on the board to bump up his scores that Harry has never seen executed so deftly. Harry had focused on big word scores and using as many letters as he could to reach the bonus squares which is how he’s always played and won, but Louis sees the bird different and he’s so fucking clever that he wallops him in no time.

Harry needs another angle so he pulls the big guns out.

“Ever played strip scrabble?”

Louis' head snaps you, a look of pure glee on his face. “Isn’t it a bit chilly for that?”

“We can just drag the table over in front of the fireplace. We’ll be fine. You game?”

Louis is up and shifting the table in response before Harry has barely blinked. “Alright, what are the rules?”

Harry settles himself down and takes a sip of his brandy. “Same rules, just for every fifty points you earn, the other person has to take off an item of clothing.”

“Not particularly creative, but I’m in.”

“No. Not particularly. But it gets the job done.”

Louis starts counting his items of clothing and Harry does the same. Harry’s got an extra vest on, so Louis adds a beanie to even it out.

If Harry thought Louis was determined before, it’s like these new and enticing goals have lit a fire under him; doubles and triples, front hooks and back hooks, and more two-letter word overlaps than Harry can count. He’s ruthless and so cunning that Harry’s in his briefs and vest in no time while Louis sits smugly, still wearing his shirt, beanie, briefs, and socks, although his hoodie and sweatpants are gone.

Harry’s not a sore loser, not really, he can freely admit when he’s been bested by a superior player and Louis is certainly that. Harry might not be able to beat him, but at least he can amuse himself while Louis wipes the floor with him.

He gets up and Louis looks at him, raising a brow. “Giving up already? We were just getting to the interesting part of the proceedings.” He gives Harry a very pointed once over, and smirks at his state of undress.

“Nope. Just grabbing something. I’ll be right back,” he says and points his finger down at Louis. “No cheating.”

“Not like I need to,” Louis murmurs under his breath as Harry walks toward their bedroom. He grabs the lube and a condom and heads back out. He chucks them on his cushion and Louis eyes him curiously.

“Help me lift this onto the floor.” Harry motions toward the board and Louis gathers the racks and bag, lifting the board together as Harry pushes the table out of the way with his foot. He repositions his cushion side-on, next to Louis and sits down.

“What game are we playing now, Harold?”

“Scrabble On The Edge,” Harry says with a grin. “Lay down, on your side. Get comfy.” 

Louis still looks confused but he shifts around and lays down on the rug, propping himself up on his elbow, underarm pressing into his cushion.l, head resting on his upturned palm. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’s Scrabble On The Edge?”

“For every fifty points you earn, instead of me removing an article of clothing, you get another finger. And for every fifty points I earn, I take one away.”

“W-what?” Louis stammers. 

“Mhmmm… hence the title of the game. The longer it takes, the longer you’ll be on the edge.”

“And what happens when I get the next fifty points after that?”

“Games over and I fuck you.”

Louis’ eyes go wide and then narrow, slipping off his briefs and throwing them aside. “Bring it on.”

Harry dresses again, this is going to take a while, and drapes a blanket over Louis’ legs so he doesn’t get too cold. The positioning is kind of awkward, trying to arrange themselves so Harry can reach Louis’ hole without them seeing each other’s racks of pieces, but they make it work. 

Louis is easily the first to fifty points and gets the promised single finger as his reward. Harry eases it in slowly, taking his time, teasing it around his rim before nudging inside. He doesn’t do much more than glide up and down his walls, smooth and warm, while Louis concentrates on the game. 

They play on, Louis barreling past one hundred points and earns a second finger while Harry languishes behind, but the game is cruel by design, and soon enough Harry cracks fifty points and withdraws one of his fingers. 

“This game is stupid,” Louis huffs out, frustration evident on his face. 

“Heeeey, don’t diss the game, man. You’ve just got to work harder.”

“I hate you.”

“You really don’t. Now, come on. Your turn.”

Louis refocuses and blasts through one hundred and fifty points, the satisfied expression on his face when Harry slides his second finger back in is almost enough for Harry to break his resolve and just fuck Louis right then and there. Instead, he amuses himself by rubbing Louis’ prostate intermittently, not enough to give him any kind of relief, but more than enough to keep him on edge.

Harry can feel a slight tremble in Louis’ thigh. His foot planted on the rug, knee bent up to give Harry the access he needs. Louis is clearly affected, more than he’s trying to let on. His concentration is waning too, distracted by Harry’s ministrations. He’s discarded his beanie, beads of sweat at his temples and the blanket has long since been kicked giving Harry a lovely view of his slicked-up hole as it glistens enticingly in the firelight.

A lucky tile selection allows Louis to snatch one of the coveted corner squares, earning a triple word score and a third finger. Harry adds more lube and slides it in beside his other two.

Louis sighs in relief and flops down onto his back atop the cushion. “Fucking _finally_.”

They’ve been at it a good while now and Louis’ cheeks are flushed, breathing slightly laboured, eyes glassy. His cock is sitting hard and angry looking against his hip, a drop of precome dribbling off the end.

Harry eyes his tiles and finds exactly what he’s looking for. It’ll get him past the next fifty point milestone he needs, but he hesitates. Louis is all laid out writhing around, trying to get Harry’s fingers deeper and it would be so easy to let him win. But where would be the fun in that? He kind of wants to see how far he can take Louis before he breaks and starts to beg, wonders what that gorgeous, raspy voice would sound like pleading with Harry to give him his release.

Harry plays his tiles and snatches a double letter score, tipping him over his next fifty. He withdraws a finger and Louis’ eyes fly open, crunching his abs and sitting half up. “What the fuck?”

Harry tilts his head toward the board. “Sorry, babe.”

Louis checks the board and groans, flinging himself back down to lay flat, hand coming up to grip the base of his cock and get himself under control. “I’m gonna fucking smother you in your sleep you prick.”

Harry cackles and jabs his two fingers into Louis’ prostate in retaliation. “You wouldn’t. You love me.”

Louis growls at him and rolls onto his side, drawing in a long breath. He has a renewed determination now, frowning in concentration as he eyes his tiles, shifting them around on the rack until a devilish smirk appears on his face. He lays down all seven tiles and Harry knows it’s game over.

“Fucking, B-I-N-G-O!” He shouts and launches himself off the ground, Harry’s fingers slipping out of him as he lands on top, pushing him over and straddling his hips. “You don’t even need to add it up. That’s it. I win.”

“Really?” Harry feigns innocence. He doesn’t need to check, knows Louis has him beat, but it’s been worth it.

“Yes, you asshole,” Louis says indignantly and is already pulling at the string on Harry’s sweatpants and shucking them down his thighs. “Now fuck me.”

Harry smiles broadly. “Well, seeing as you won fair and square. I reckon you’ve earned it.”

“Too fucking right I have.” Louis leans behind him and grabs the condom, opening it with his teeth and spitting the torn-off end half-way across the room. He rolls it down Harry’s length and Harry hisses at the contact, he’s been half-hard for what seems like an eternity and Louis taking the lead so aggressively has him fully hard in an instant.

Harry digs under his back for the lube and squeezes a generous amount into Louis' upturned hand. Louis slaps it on Harry’s cock haphazardly, clearly done with waiting any longer than absolutely necessary. He lifts up and shuffles forward, holding Harry in place as he lines up, wasting no time sinking down. It’s faster than they would normally go but Louis is obviously on a mission, done with teasing after being edged for so long.

“Fuck,” Harry exhales. “You’re so hot when you’re like this.”

Louis arches his back as he impales himself on Harry, moaning loudly, socked feet digging under Harry’s thighs, hands fisted on Harry’s chest for balance. Harry grips onto his hips and lets him set the pace, happy to watch the man above him as he takes what he wants. 

Louis moves quickly, bouncing and grinding and swivelling his hips, trying to get Harry deeper and deeper with every movement, grunting and whining, unable to hit the spot he so desperately wants. 

Harry plants his feet on the ground and draws his knees up to give him added leverage. Louis slumps forward, fringe hanging down in front of his eyes, pupils blown, panting heavily. “Fuck me, Haz. Fuck me hard.”

He would never deny this beautiful man anything, certainly not this. “Yeah, baby? Want me to give it to you good?”

Louis nods violently, a wild expression on his face. “Yeah, come on. Don’t wanna wait anymore.”

Harry lifts up his hips and flips them over, landing on top of the scrabble board, pieces flying every which way. He slams into Louis hard and fast, barely letting up to suck in air, Louis clinging onto his back for dear life, chanting _more_ and _yes_ and _harder_ mixed with a litany of filth.

Louis reaches up and drags Harry down roughly by the back of his neck, lips colliding in an open-mouthed and bruising kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue and sloppy as all hell and it’s fucking fantastic. 

Harry growls into Louis’ mouth. “Gonna come, Lou? Gonna make a mess all over this scrabble board?”

He changes the angle and Louis whines high in his throat, breaking their kiss and throwing his head back. “Fucking there!” 

“Yeah, baby? You like that?”

Louis grabs handfuls of Harry’s hair and pulls harshly, a surge of electricity rampaging around Harry’s body. He’s close, so close. He shoves his hand between them, pushing Louis’ hoodie and shirt out of the way and takes hold of Louis’ cock, hot and wet with precome, stripping it furiously. Louis must be nearly there too, the obscene sounds he’s making egging Harry on, hips pistoning, toes digging into the rug, calves threatening to cramp. 

“Harder! Fuck,” Louis cries out and Harry draws on his last reserves to give him what he wants, slamming into him like a man possessed. The sweat is coming off him in sheets, dripping off the end of his nose and chin and down onto Louis' neck.

Louis tenses under him, thighs clamping tightly around Harry’s hips and stifling his movements. He slaps a hand onto Harry’s sweat-damp cheek and holds his gaze, mouth agape, breath held. 

Harry can’t hold off anymore, the image of Louis reaching his peak burning into his brain and pulling his orgasm out of him. He slams in one final time and pulses into the condom, stilling his thrusts as he tugs on Louis’ cock once, twice, and then Louis wails, hand slamming down on the ground, back arching as he hurtles over the edge. His entire body shudders, lips trembling, eyes wide as Harry watches on in awe.

Harry's arm is shaking, he can’t hold himself up anymore so he drops down onto Louis, burying his face in Louis’ neck, panting, gasping for air. Murmuring nonsense, words maybe, he isn’t sure, the world is spinning out of control and he can’t catch his breath. He manages to release Louis’ cock and extract his other arm from between them, splaying out like a starfish, his full weight surely crushing Louis by now.

Minutes pass and Harry starts to come back to himself, jostled by the wriggling, giggling man beneath him. He pulls out and rolls off him, landing on one of the scrabble racks. He digs it out of his back and chucks it to the side, laying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling, trying to breathe normally again.

“Holy fucking _shit_!” Louis shouts, pumping his fists in the air. “That was… wow.” He rolls over and straddles Harry’s thighs, peeling the condom off and tying it in a knot, discarding it on top of his sweatpants.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah. That was… something.”

Louis beams down at him. “It was fucking amazing, is what it was.”

“So Scrabble On The Edge was a success then?” Harry asks with a smirk, fishing for compliments.

“That, my dear Harold, might have been your best idea yet. Where did you learn it?”

“Uhm… came up with it on the spot actually.”

“Fuck off,” Louis deadpans.

Harry shrugs his shoulders, reaching around to cup Louis' arse in his hands and giving his cheeks a squeeze. “Guess I missed my calling. Should’ve gone into business designing sexy board games.”

“You’re a man of many talents. My man. All mine.”

“Mhmmm… All yours,” Harry murmurs and cranes his neck up for a kiss. Louis leans down and seals their lips together.

He pulls away and tilts his head to the side. “Kinda glad we’ve got bad weather for the next few days. Not sure I’ll be able to walk after that thorough dicking.”

“I seem to recall you asking for it harder. Multiple times actually.”

“I did indeed. And you gave me exactly what I wanted, just like you always do,” Louis kisses him again, soft and sweet and all kinds of lovely. He lays his head on Harry’s chest and looks up. “Can’t believe I got this lucky. Must’ve been very good in a past life.”

“Love you,” Harry whispers and places a chaste kiss to Louis’ forehead. “So much.”

“Love you too. Bedtime?”

“Yeah. Bedtime.”

They decide to leave the clean up for the morning and after they retrieve the few wayward scrabble tiles embedded in Harry’s arse cheeks, they shower and head to bed. Louis has a definite waddle going on and Harry can’t help but tease him about it. Louis just swats at him and tells him that he’ll have to kiss it better tomorrow.

Harry can’t think of anything he’d like more.

Hello lovely people. We’ve made it to the two-month mark! Can you believe it? Thank you for everyone’s comments on the last post, the movie night was certainly a special one for us both.

The weather has been quite shit and our progress on the remaining big outdoor jobs has been slow but we’re plugging away regardless. 

We had a chopper drop yesterday and a visit from the peeps at the Tasmania Parks and Wildlife Remote Management Team to check on how things were going and to make sure we weren’t ready to murder each other. We received a gold star rating for our work so far and Alex and Grant left happy that we were coping well. We’ve got four more months on the island but I suspect that will go fast.

And yes, in response to all your questions, Harry and I did finally have that scrabble match and I won, of course, but we had some fun with the rules and let's just say we both came out winners in the end ;)

Anyway, not much else to report so we’ll catch you all later.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

The next month is spent in an almost constant cat and mouse game with the weather. Watching the radar and the skies for breaks in the relentless rain and wind so they can get jobs done. It’s a slow process but they make the best of it. Getting out for walks around the island when they can and enjoying the brief glimpses of sunshine, Harry’s camera always slung around his neck.

They’ve managed to connect with other remote workers around the globe over Skype and email and group chats, and spend time sharing war stories of lives lived in isolation battling Mother Nature. It’s nice to know there are others out there on crazy adventures just like they are, many in even more challenging situations. There are other lighthouse keepers and weather station operators, seasonal workers in the Arctic and Antarctic, National Park caretakers, teachers and social workers in remote indigenous communities. It’s fascinating.

They fall into a comfortable routine and it’s wonderful. Still, there’s a niggling voice in Harry’s head that prods and pokes at him when he’s alone or in that blurry space between awake and asleep. Even though Louis has given him no real cause for concern, he worries that he won’t be enough, that Louis will get bored of him, of their circumstances. Louis is such a positive person and never ceases to amaze Harry with his dedication and calm approach to everything that’s thrown at them.

Harry worries too what will happen when their six months comes to end and they have to go back to their normal lives. They love each other, of that he’s certain, and for him, Louis is his forever, he’s just not sure what that means from a practical perspective. Will he move to be with Louis? Will Louis relocate to be with him? What will they do for work? There’s no great rush, they’re both financially secure, but eventually, they will need to do something, won’t they?

It’s something they haven’t addressed and Harry wants to so badly, he wants to know for his own sanity if nothing else, but he also wants to hide away and pretend they’re going to exist in their little bubble forever. So he pushes his fears down into the dark pits deep within and hopes against hope that he can find a magical solution before it’s too late.

We have babies!!! Well, that’s what young Harold screamed at me this morning when he burst into our bedroom and woke me from my peaceful slumber.

Three pairs of short-tailed shearwaters, also known as Tasmanian Muttonbirds, had built their burrows under the front verandah and laid their eggs. With no foxes or other direct predators on the Island, it makes for a safe place to raise their little families.

Harry had been doing his research and watching them closely, waiting for the day when the chicks would finally hatch, and today was the day. He was like a kid on Christmas morning.

We’re barreling towards the start of winter here in the Southern Hemisphere on June 1, but it seems like the weatherman in the sky didn’t get the memo. The days are shortening and it barely gets above freezing, add in the wind chill factor and it’s making for a challenging time. Thankfully we’re well-stocked with firewood and brandy and warm cuddles, so we’re doing okay.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Harry unloads the last of the supplies off the chopper and waves goodbye to Grant as he lifts off, hovering briefly before skimming the edge of the cliffs and then climbing high into the sky, disappearing from view.

He carries the building materials into the shed, returning and carting the crates and canvas bags up onto the verandah. Thankfully the wind isn’t too bad today and the rain had subsided just as Grant had landed, so he was able to work without getting drenched.

Dragging the last of the bags and crates inside he closes the door and kicks off his boots, shucking out of his coat and taking off his beanie and gloves. He goes to stand by the fire to warm himself, rubbing his hands together to get the blood flowing again.

“Y’all good, Haz?” Louis calls from the bedroom, a barking cough following his question.

“Yeah. Got everything unloaded. Just warming up,” Harry shouts back. “You want a honey’n’lemon drink?”

A double knock sounds through the cottage walls indicating that he wants one. Two for yes, one for no. It’s a simple enough system and one that they’d had to instigate when Louis lost his voice. They were an interesting few days, to say the least. 

Harry pops on his thickest woollen jumper and his sheepskin slippers and fills the kettle, preparing Louis’ drink, one squirt of lemon juice and a good squeeze of honey, just the way he likes it; too much lemon and it hurts his throat, too much honey and it makes him itch. 

He makes himself a cuppa as Louis’ drink cools a bit, getting his antibiotics from the fridge. Bronchitis, tonsillitis and laryngitis; the triple-bunger, the doctor had called it during the telehealth appointment over Skype. Louis had hit the Itis Jackpot. 

He’s been laid up for over a week but he’s getting stronger by the day, the worst of it having passed. Thankfully Grant has been able to do a special drop to bring his medication and Harry has been doing his best to care for him. Louis has been an absolute trooper but Harry can’t say he would’ve been as stoic if the roles were reversed, he’s never been a very good patient. 

It was bound to happen to one or both of them, what with the weather and everything. Harry is just grateful it didn’t take them both down at the same time.

He wanders into the bedroom, antibiotics in their packet under his arm and mugs in his hands, the sweet and sour aroma of Louis’ drink wafting up into Harry’s nostrils as he walks. Louis is curled up under the covers, eyes closed but not sleeping. He looks adorable; nose red and chapped from blowing it, hair mussed, and hands pillowed under his head. 

“Grant brought over some of his mum's special remedy chicken soup for dinner. Said it’d fix you right up,” Harry says as he sets the mugs down on the bedside table. 

Louis opens his eyes and nods, smiling broadly. He’s trying not to use his voice too much, rest is best, and when he speaks he tends to cough so it’s better to avoid it wherever he can. Louis pushes himself up to sitting and leans forward so Harry can adjust his pillows, shuffling back toward the bedhead and pulling the blankets up to his chest.

Harry hands him his drink and drags the chair over from the corner, kicking his feet up onto the bed and settling down with his tea.

“Looks like they’ve sent all the building supplies we asked for. And there’s motor parts of some sort in a box that I brought inside. Must be those replacements for the generator.”

Louis blows over the top of his mug and nods again, taking a tentative sip. Their conversations are fairly one-sided for now, but it’s not all bad. Harry has even been reading to Louis in the afternoons when he comes out and lays on the couch in front of the fire for a bit. They’re making their way through the Harry Potter books which has been kind of nice.

“Did you want the soup for lunch or dinner?”

“Dinner,” Louis whispers.

“Alright.” Harry takes a gulp of his tea, warming him from the inside out on its way down. “Maybe some pasta for lunch then?”

Louis nods and leans back into his pillows.

“You’re looking a lot better today. Those antibiotics seem to be working.”

“Mmmm… think it’s your bedside manner more than anything else,” Louis says quietly, voice still strained, but he’s grinning and Harry will take that as a good sign.

“Grant dropped off another packet of pills with instructions from the doc to finish the course fully, even when you’re feeling well.”

“Yes boss,” Louis says with a chuckle but he winces, the relentless coughing having done a number on pretty much every muscle in his torso.

“Hey. What did we say about laughing?”

Louis does the motion to zip his lips.

“That’s right,” Harry praises. “No laughing. No overexertion of any kind.”

Louis pouts and Harry wants to eat him up. He’s so soft and cute and cuddly. They’ve been keeping their distance as best they can in the hope that Harry doesn’t get sick too and as much as Harry hates it, it seems to be working. 

Louis finishes the last of his drink and sets the mug down on the table, pointing to his antibiotics.

“Yeah. You’re due your next dose. Did you want some paracetamol? It’s been four hours so you can have some more now if you want it.”

Louis nods. “Aching,” he murmurs.

Harry rubs his leg through the covers. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Louis shrugs and pastes on a smile, holding out his hand as Harry reaches over and grabs the packets, pushing the pills out of their little foil casings. He passes him the water bottle and Louis swallows them down like the good little patient he is, sliding back down the bed and tucking the pillows under his head, snuggling into the blankets.

“Okay. Why don’t you rest up and I’ll go and sort out a few things and then I’ll come and get you for a shower before lunch if you’d like?”

“Mmmmm… okay. Thank you. Love you,” Louis says sweetly and closes his eyes, already drifting off.

“Love you too.”

Harry stays until Louis falls back to sleep, gently rubbing his thigh and tucking him in tightly once his breathing evens out.

He goes out to the living room and sighs when he sees the crates and bags that need unpacking but he gets to work and finishes up quickly. Lunch is next on the agenda, so he puts the pasta on the boil and chops up some mushrooms and ham and onions, making a creamy sauce to go with it. Louis has been more inclined to eat the cream-based sauces rather than tomato since he’s been unwell.

He hears two knocks on the wall and shouts out in reply. “Coming!” 

Louis is sitting up in bed, sleep-creases in his cheek and Harry wants so desperately to kiss him but he refrains. Another few days he reminds himself. Just another few days. The last thing he wants is to get sick and for Louis to have to look after him.

“Ready for your shower and lunch, then some couch time? We’ve got The Prisoner Of Askaban to finish off.”

Louis nods, stifling a yawn behind his hand and swings his legs out of bed, holding his hands out. He’d had a lot of trouble with dizzy spells when he first got sick and nearly brained himself on the vanity, so Harry put a stop to solo bathroom trips after that.

Harry wraps him in a throw blanket and supports some of his weight as they shuffle out of the bedroom. He stands behind Louis as he pees and then helps him get undressed as the water warms up, taking off his own slippers and sweatpants so they don’t get wet.

“Sexy,” Louis huffs out. “Not exactly what you signed up for, babe.”

“Just good practice for when we’re old and decrepit. Besides, you’re sick this time, next time it’ll likely be me, and I can assure you, I will _not_ make such a good patient. So I’m earning my brownie points now while I can.”

Louis smiles sweetly and Harry will definitely take all of those he can get.

It’s not the first time they’ve spoken about the future, even though it’s only in passing, with a hint of jest. But for Harry, it’s the only future he can imagine. Louis means everything to him. His person. His partner. His forever. He knows Louis feels the same too, particularly after his little love declaration speech at their movie night. 

The challenge is what happens next, once their time on the island draws to a close. Harry has some ideas, things he wants to talk to Louis about, but he needs to wait until he’s capable of staying awake for longer than an hour so they can discuss it properly.

Louis steps under the spray once it’s warm enough, pressing his hands flat on the tiles as Harry washes his hair and body.

“Anyway,” Harry says as he runs a cloth over his back.” You’re still sexy. Even when you’re sick. Can’t wait to get my hands on you for more nefarious purposes when you’re all better,” he murmurs into Louis' ear.

“Quit it you,” Louis chides and Harry can hear the smirk in his voice. 

Harry helps him to dry off and get dressed in some clean clothes, popping a beanie on his head for good measure. Louis has taken to wearing Harry’s clothes most of the time now, maintaining that they’re bigger and comfier. Harry wouldn’t deny him anything and certainly not this; having Louis dressed in his things just _does_ stuff to him, warm and fuzzy stuff.

Harry sets Louis up on the couch, stoking the fire, and making sure Louis eats most of his lunch. He always gets sleepy when he’s got a full stomach, so they just sit and relax while Harry gives him a foot massage. It only takes a few minutes and Louis is asleep again, just the sounds of his soft snuffling and the crackling logs on the fireplace filling the room.

He gets up and dresses to brave the outside once again, the weather station readings need to be done and he has to do some checks on the lighthouse before he can settle in for the afternoon. 

He takes one last look back at Louis curled up on the couch, hair poking out of his beanie, firelight flickering on his beautiful face, and his heart swells with so much love and fondness he thinks it might burst.

Hello, everyone. Yes, we’re still here. Sorry for worrying you all! I got the dreaded triple-lurgy - bronchitis, tonsillitis, and laryngitis. YUCK! Thankfully Harry sidestepped it so he could focus all his attention on keeping things running and lovingly nursing me back to health. He’s been a true angel and I’m now firing on all cylinders once again.

We’re making good progress on some big outdoor jobs. The extension to the storage shed has been a challenge but we’ve worked on it together and it’s nearly finished. Just another couple of fine days and we’ll be done.

The veggie patch is our next target. It’s tough to grow things here, the high winds destroying pretty much anything that peeks above the ground. So we’re planting some carrots, potatoes and onions as well as trying out a patch of pumpkin in the most protected spot. Harry has done all he can to prepare the soil and shore up the earth with wooden sleepers and rock walls for drainage given the relentless rainfall.

I can’t believe we passed the halfway mark on our adventure. Where did the time go? All too soon this adventure will be coming to an end which gives pause for thought....

Anyway, that’s a worry for another day, Harry’s calling me to get my arse into gear while there’s a brief spot of sunshine so I’ll sign off for now.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Louis is in the shower, the lilting melody of Oasis’ Wonderwall carried out into the living room on his lovely voice as Harry reads over the blog post Louis submitted earlier that day.

 _All too soon this adventure will be coming to an end which gives pause for thought…_

It’s yet another reminder that their time on the island is reaching an end and it’s been playing on Harry’s mind, becoming more and more insistent in the last week. They’ve received notification of the date for their departure from Alex at the Remote Management Team, September 2, as well as contact details for the new couple coming to take over from them. Carol and Rob seem absolutely lovely, in their fifties and early retirees from Texas, they’re looking to change up their lives and take on new challenges when they finish up a cross-country road trip in the US. The four of them have a Skype date scheduled for a few weeks from now and Harry is genuinely looking forward to it.

It’s something new they’re trying, a handover, as such. Louis had floated the idea of having the outgoing and incoming caretakers get to know each other with Alex and he’d jumped at the suggestion. The intention being to ease the transition for both couples and relieve some of the burden from Alex and the team. Harry has also spent a bit of time updating the procedure manuals and Louis has revamped and consolidated the multitude of spreadsheets to streamline them.

Harry feels like they’ve achieved so much, made valuable improvements to the infrastructure here on the island and left their mark in many other ways too. He knows their time here is a blink in the eye of the history of the place but he likes to think they’ve made a difference. 

He’s had a lot of time to think about what comes next, particularly during the two weeks Louis was laid up sick in bed. He’d spent countless hours sitting in front of the fire, pouring over websites, and searching for options. 

He has a plan and he thinks it’s a good one. Now he just needs to broach the subject with Louis. 

The man occupying his thoughts comes up behind him at the stove and nuzzles into his neck, hair still damp and smelling deliciously of their citrus body wash. Louis kisses a line from his shoulder to just under his ear, nibbling at his lobe. Harry shifts the pot to the back burner and turns off the heat. It’s only a beef stew, it’ll keep.

Harry spins around and seeks out Louis’ lips, cupping his face in his hands and tilting his head to deepen it immediately. It’s just… Louis is _a lot_. Those couple of weeks, while he was sick, were torturous. Harry ached to touch him, kiss him, hold him, but they had to keep their distance so he didn’t get sick too. So if he’s making up for lost time now, then he’s going to cut himself some slack.

Louis giggles into Harry’s mouth and pushes at his chest, looking up into his eyes. “You’re insatiable.”

Harry pouts and reaches around to palm at Louis’ arse. “Not my fault you’re gorgeous. Anyway, you started it, coming in here all fresh and comfy looking and smelling practically edible.”

“Seriously? All I did was have a shower, used _our_ body wash, and now I’m wearing _your_ clothes. Not sure how that equates to being gorgeous.”

“But you are. You could be stinking up the place and wearing a garbage bag and you’d still be gorgeous. Plus, if you’re trying to put me off by wearing my clothes then you’re definitely on the wrong track.”

Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and looks up from under his eyelashes, all coy and like he doesn’t know exactly what that does to Harry. “Yeah? You like me wearing your stuff?”

Harry growls and ducks down, nipping at Louis’ neck and picking him up under his thighs, walking them over to the couch and setting Louis down, kneeling on the floor between his legs. “God. So much. My list of preferences is fairly short. Naked is number one, of course.”

“Of course,” Louis says and rolls his eyes.

“Then it’d be wearing my clothes,” Harry says as he runs his hands from Louis’ knees to his hips. “Followed by… well, everything else is probably a tie.”

Louis smiles and it lights up his whole face. “You’re such an idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot and you love me.”

Louis sighs dramatically. “True. I’m helpless to resist.”

Harry is suddenly struck by the fear of what will happen when they come to the end of their time on the island. He can’t fathom a life not spent by Louis’ side each and every day. A sense of determination ripples through his body. He needs to broach the subject with Louis now before he goes out of his mind.

Harry leans forward for a chaste kiss and leans down on his elbows, either side of Louis’ thighs and readies himself. He can do this. It’s just the rest of his life and his eternal happiness that’s at stake. No pressure.

“Can we talk?”

Louis furrows his brows and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Harry’s ear. “Yeah, sure. Everything alright, babe?”

“Yeah. I just have an idea about something, but it might take a while to go through.”

“Wondered why you’d put the dinner on so early,” he says with a grin. “Sneaky.”

“Prepared.”

Louis chuckles. “Okay. Hit me with it. What’s this idea of yours?”

Harry gets to his feet and retrieves his laptop from the desk, sitting down next to Louis and swivelling around, foot tucked under his bum. Louis turns to face him and mirrors his position. 

“Okay. So…” Harry starts, except he’s unsure of the next words even though he’s been having this conversation in his head for weeks. He looks away toward the fire and tries to gather his thoughts.

Louis takes his hands. “Haz. Seriously. Whatever it is will be fine. We can work through it.”

“It’s not... I mean, it’s not bad. I don’t think?”

“Freakin’ me out over here, love.”

Harry looks back to find a worried expression on Louis' face but there’s kindness in his eyes and it settles him. 

Harry takes a deep breath. “So our time here is going to be coming to an end soon and I wanted to talk about what happens after that. For us. Where we’re gonna go and what we’re gonna do.”

“Ohhhh… okay. Yeah, good.” Louis sits up straighter and nods. “Good. This is good. I wanted to have this discussion too.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks hopefully.

“Mhmmm… Had a lot of time to think when I was sick. Sorry, you’ve been so nervous about it, babe. I should’ve instigated this sit-down weeks ago.”

“Oh. Uhm. Alright. Is it okay if I start? Or did you wanna kick it off?”

“No, no. You go,” Louis says encouragingly. “Looks like you’ve got something in mind.”

Harry’s confidence is bolstered by the fact that Louis has been thinking about it too. He just hopes they’re on the same general page. It doesn’t really matter if Louis isn’t sold on his specific idea, as long as they both want to be together they can work it out.

“So… I’ll start off with, I love you.”

Louis smiles brightly. “Excellent start. And I love you too.”

“These last few months have been amazing. You, this adventure, everything. I never saw my life taking this path but I’m so glad it did.”

“Ditto.”

“And while this was only supposed to be a six-month gig, a diversion, trying something different, escaping from our boring jobs, our boring lives… I just... I can’t see myself ever wanting to go back to that life. Regardless of whether it’s as a sales rep or some other regular job. I think now that I’ve experienced this, I’m not going to be happy with normal. And no matter what, I want to be with you. Forever.”

Louis runs his thumbs over Harry’s knuckles not breaking their gaze. “Yeah. I feel the same. No going back, right? Just the two of us.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah. Naming the blog might’ve been a bit of an omen. Guess my subconscious was a step ahead.”

“Maybe it was. Alright, lay it out then. What’s your idea?”

“We're both finally secure, which is a bonus, but we probably need to be sensible and earn some sort of income if we can.”

Louis nods. “I’d be alright for a decent amount of time, and based on what’ve you’ve said, you would too, but I like your thinking.”

“I’ve been doing some research and speaking to some of the others we’ve been in contact with who are doing remote postings,” Harry explains, excitement building. “There are lots of other opportunities like this, all over the world, in different countries, doing cool stuff like we’re doing now. Some of them pay a wage, although it’s usually small, but they include food and lodging so the expenses are basically nothing.”

Louis squeezes his hands, eyes crinkling at the sides as he grins. “I’m liking the sound of this, Haz. Keep going.”

Harry’s heart is beating out of his chest with excitement. He barrels on. “So some of them are remote like this, on our own, as caretakers. Others are on isolated farms or stations or in indigenous communities like we’ve been seeing with the people we’re in touch with.”

“Yeah. Seems like a lot of options. Is there one, in particular, you landed on?”

“Well,” Harry draws his hands back and picks up his laptop, lifting the lid and bringing up the Work Arctic site. “There is one I was looking at that I thought might be a good next step…”

He spins the laptop around and shows Louis the screen, watching his face for a reaction. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to wait long. Louis snatches the computer from Harry’s lap and gapes, eyes scanning the screen.

“You’re fucking with me,” Louis deadpans.

“What?” Harry gasps, panic surging in his veins. 

“Wait.” Louis shoves Harry’s laptop back into his hands and leaps off the couch, retrieving his own laptop from the desk and sitting back down beside Harry. He flips it open and taps away on the trackpad, brows knitted together and tongue peeking out in concentration. “Holy crap.”

Louis turns his laptop around and shows Harry his bookmarks. There, at the top of the list, clear as day, is the Work Arctic site.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath and nearly chokes on his own spit. “What the hell?”

Louis whacks him playfully. “This is the site _I’ve_ been looking at too!”

Harry swallows and regains the ability to speak. “You’re shitting me?”

“Nope! How is that…? I mean. Wow.”

They both slump back into the couch and stare off at the fire as it crackles, a log shifting, embers flaring. Neither of them say anything for a few minutes, the enormity of the situation washing over them in waves.

“So... the Arctic Circle.”

“The Arctic Circle.”

Harry can’t stop the smile that breaks across his face, a bubble of laughter making its way up from within and escaping from his lips. He feels the couch start to vibrate, Louis’ shoulder nudging at his own. Soon their cackles are filling the small cottage and it’s one of the most euphoric feelings Harry’s ever experienced.

Louis sets his laptop on the coffee table and takes Harry’s from him as well. He turns, eyes wet with happy tears and launches himself at Harry, pushing him back and straddling his thighs.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Louis says as he peppers kisses all over Harry’s face. Harry reaches up and presses between his shoulder blades, bringing Louis closer to him, always closer. Harry slows his onslaught and dives in for an urgent kiss, passionate and bruising, trying to convey his elation with his body instead of his words because they simply aren’t enough anymore. 

Louis loves him. Louis wants to continue their crazy adventures. Louis wants to spend the rest of their lives together. And sitting there, on the couch, fire burning brightly before them, in the little cottage on the island at the end of the Earth, Harry’s entire future just slots into place.

Four months! Wow. And as if on cue, we ticked over four thousand subscribers this morning! Amazing. Thank you all for taking an interest in our odd little corner of the web.

Thanks also for all your well wishes. Yes, I’m fully recovered. And no, Harry didn’t wear a nurse’s uniform (cheeky buggers), although I may tuck that thought away for later...

Anyway, where was I? Oh! Our veggie garden is fully planted and we should be able to start harvesting in around a month, although some things will take longer and the next caretakers will reap the rewards of our hard work. We’re hopeful that this is something that can continue long after we’re gone and each new couple will plant out for future inhabitants.

We’ve got some visitors coming out in a couple of weeks which should be fun! The Friends of Maatsuyker is a group who monitor migratory birds and other wildlife on the island. They’re going to pop in for lunch so Harry’s going to bake up a storm. He’s already started planning the menu so it should be an event not to be missed :)

Catch you all later!

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Harry is bustling around in the kitchen, last-minute preparations underway for the visitors. The timer dings on the stove and he retrieves the rolls, the aroma of freshly baked bread wafting up and mixing with all the other delicious smells in the small cottage.

Louis is in the bathroom, giving it a final once over and Harry is buzzing with excitement. He never got to entertain much back in the UK, having no home base to speak of where he could have people round for dinner parties or barbecues. It’s one of the things he’s looking forward to most about their next potential posting in the Arctic. It wouldn’t be dinner parties as such, but the camp has a diner and bar that they would work at, and the social aspect is so appealing, particularly after being isolated on the island for so many months. Interacting with travellers and long-haul truckers, as well as the other staff at the camp, hearing their stories from the road and other adventures. It would be a fascinating mix and something Harry is keen to experience.

They had submitted their applications on the day of their revealing conversation and they should be hearing back any day now. Harry doesn’t think it will be particularly competitive, the pool of people wanting to up-sticks and work at remote locations is small and they're well-qualified, but he still worries that there will be some impediment that’ll bring their dreams crashing down. Even so, they can always find something else, now that they’ve decided on this path for their future, still, Harry wants this one badly.

“That smells good, Haz,” Louis says as he comes out into the living room and peeks over Harry’s shoulder, reaching out for one of the bread rolls.

Harry slaps his hand away. “Hey! No touching. They’re for lunch.”

Louis huffs. “Such a party pooper. Alright. Bathroom’s done. What’s next boss?”

“Uhm… just the table, I think. I’m almost done here, then we can lay it all out and get dressed.”

“Solid plan. I’ll bring the bench seats in off the verandah,” Louis says and pecks a kiss to Harry’s cheek, giving him a gentle pat on the bum as he wanders off, humming a tune. Harry is yet again overtaken by how lucky he really is. Most people would’ve rolled their eyes and chastised him for the ridiculous levels of preparation he’s gone to for a quick lunch, but Louis has just been calm and encouraging, letting Harry take the lead, being supportive where required. 

Louis bangs and crashes around as he drags the extra furniture into the cottage. Harry helps him shift the couch and armchair out of the way, making a cozy nook near the fireplace, and they clear off the desk before hauling it into the centre of the room. The small round dining table and chairs go at one end and the bench seats flank either side of the desk which is butted up against the table.

Harry’s had to improvise with the tablecloth, making one from a mint green bed sheet, and getting creative with the centrepiece; some grey, weathered driftwood with sprigs of rosemary, and sea-polished rocks. There’s a vase sat atop the coffee table filled with white and yellow wildflowers from the meadow behind the cottage, arranged with saltbush and thin, gnarly sticks Louis had collected from just above Seal Bay.

The fire is pumping out the heat and soft music is playing on Harry’s laptop as they lay the last of the feast on the table. It’s impressive, even if Harry says so himself. There’s potato salad infused with the herbs Harry’s been nurturing in a planter box under the window in the unused bedroom. A chicken and pesto pasta dish, baked veggies with more of the rosemary that grows so well on the island, a corn salsa, and lamb shanks, slow-cooked so the meat is practically falling off the bone. He hasn’t been able to get too adventurous, limited as he is with their fresh ingredients, but he’s pleased with it nonetheless.

But it’s the baked goods that he’s most proud of. He always loved baking as a child and he’d missed it so much with his living circumstances over recent years. He’s been making up for it on the island though. For their visitors he’s made an Australian themed fare; pumpkin scones, herb damper, and cheese and vegemite scrolls to go with their lunch, with lamingtons and pavlova for dessert. He’s had to use tinned fruit for the pavlova, but doesn’t think anyone will mind; little mandarins segments, passion fruit, and cherries to finish it off.

“Anything else I can help with, Haz?” Louis asks as they stand back and survey their work.

Harry smiles and pulls Louis into his side, kissing him on the temple. “Nah. All good. Thanks, Lou. You’ve been amazing.”

Louis chuckles and spins to face him, wrapping his arms around his waist and rising up on his toes for a kiss. “You’re the amazing one. Can’t believe you’ve managed all this. They’re going to be properly impressed.”

Harry blushes, ducking down and nuzzling into Louis’ neck. “I’ve had a lot of fun,” he mumbles into Louis' skin.

Louis pulls back and noses at Harry’s jaw until he lifts his head and Louis can kiss him again. “Alright. I’m gonna go shower and get dressed before they arrive.”

“Yeah, you stink,” Harry snorts and scrunches his nose.

“Oi! I do not,” Louis protests and lifts his arm, pretending to sniff underneath, not that he could smell anything through his layers of clothes even if he did reek, which he absolutely doesn’t. He plays along anyway. “Mmmm… yeah. Maybe,” he says backing away. “I’ll be sure to leave you some hot water, babe.”

“Thanks, Lou. For… well, for everything.”

Louis does a cute little bow. “Always at your service, my liege.”

Harry giggles and waves him away, turning back to the kitchen which is messy, but not too disastrous. He gets to work washing the remaining dishes and finishes placing the last one in the drainer as Louis comes back, smelling delicious as always. He’s wearing his come-fuck-me blue jeans which should be illegal as far as Harry is concerned, and a cream cable knit jumper, his fringe soft and swooped to the side. 

Louis grabs a tea towel and comes up alongside. “I’ll wipe these and put them away while you go and get ready. They’ll be here soon.”

“Nrrghhhh… why are you wearing those jeans?” Harry asks, whining pitifully.

“Because I’m a cock-tease and I love to torture you. Have we not established that?”

“I hate you.”

“Pretty sure we’ve also established that isn’t true,” Louis says and hip-checks him.

“Fine. But I’m gonna-“

“Nope! No sexy talk before our guests arrive. Now away with you!” Louis twirls the tea towel and snaps it at the backs of Harry’s knees.

“I’ll get you for that later,” Harry says, dropping his voice down low and backing away, not missing the shiver that courses through Louis’ body as he turns around to deal with the dishes.

~~~~

“Well, this was definitely one for the books,” Martha says as she stands on the verandah waiting for the others to get their boots on. “You boys have outdone yourselves.”

Harry blushes for the hundredth time in the last three hours. “Thanks, Martha. It was a pleasure having you all here.”

“The pleasure was all ours, Harry,” Sky says as she slips on her thick coat. “The next caretakers have a lot to live up to. Make sure you let them know we’ll be expecting nothing short of caviar and champagne.”

Harry smiles and pulls her in for a warm hug as Evan comes out, stretching his arms above his head. “I think someone is going to have to roll me down the hill.” He pats Louis on the back and reaches around to shake his hand.

“I’m sure that can be arranged, mate,” Louis says with a grin and they all laugh.

It’s been an amazing afternoon. Good company, great food, and a shared love for Maatsuyker and all its treasures; both flora and fauna. They’d arrived just as Harry had stepped out of the bedroom, freshly showered and dressed in his best skinny jeans and flowing cotton button down. Two can play at the seduction game and Louis had simply snorted and tipped his imaginary hat with a _‘Well played, Haz. Well played.’_

The group had been weary, having spent the morning recording their data, and then trudging all the way up to the cottage. The island had risen to occasion and put on an uncharacteristically fine day, no rain, and just a gentle breeze for the most part, although it’s starting to pick up now, as it often does in the late afternoon.

The three visitors had been suitably impressed with the spread they’d put on for them. Oohing and ahhing and devouring everything in their sight. There’s plenty of leftovers for dinner and lunch tomorrow too, so that leaves the rest of the day and evening for themselves. Harry has plans for Louis. Big plans.

Louis had been a little minx throughout the afternoon, flirting mercilessly with Harry, much to the amusement of Martha and Sky. Evan was mainly oblivious, but that probably had more to do with the fact that he barely drew breath for anything other than shoveling more food into his mouth, chattering away happily and telling tales of the island's history.

Louis made every effort to slip in private jokes and subtle innuendos, leaning in close to Harry and trailing just fingers down his arm and thigh every chance he got, batting his eyelashes and fiddling with his fringe in that way that makes Harry’s toes curl.

Yeah, Louis is going to pay.

They say their final farewells and wave goodbye, Harry and Louis standing on the verandah and watching as they walk back down the track and out of sight. It’s getting cold and Harry is glad when they can retreat to the warmth of their cottage. Louis had cleaned up while the others had sat and finished their teas and coffees around the fire. They’d all offered to help, but Louis had just fended them off, saying he was happy to do it.

Louis collects them and starts to rinse them off but that’s just an unnecessary delay in Harry’s view, now that he has Louis alone he’s done waiting. 

He slides up behind Louis and presses against his back, angling down to murmur in his ear. “And what, pray tell, do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m playing golf. What does it look like?”

Oh. So he wants to play. Excellent.

Harry slides his hands down Louis’ forearms. His jumper is pushed up to his elbows, skin wet. He circles his wrists with his thumb and forefinger, applying a firm grip, feeling Louis’ blood pulse under his fingertips. “You were a little shit all during lunch, acting like you were all innocent and didn’t know exactly what you were doing to me. Riling me up. Well, actions have consequences.”

Louis’ hands tremble, the plate in his hand dropping with a thud into the sink, tap still running.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Louis says, egging him on.

Harry noses at his cheek and Louis tilts his head to the side giving him better access, leaning back into Harry’s chest.

“Those jeans,” Harry mutters and shoves his knee between Louis’ legs, lifting up and spreading them enough to put Louis’ slightly off balance.

Harry nips at the pulse point on Louis’ neck, eliciting a soft whimper. “They’re just jeans. What’s the big deal?” Louis goes for nonchalant but Harry can hear the crack in his voice.

Harry draws Louis’ hands behind his back roughly, holding them together in one of his own against Louis’ lower back. He spins him around and Louis' breath hitches as Harry forces him into the edge of the sink, bracketing him with his thighs.

He dives down to lick a stripe from the dip between his collar bones and up to his ear lobe. “Wanted to peel them off you as soon as you came out of the bedroom, but you knew I couldn’t do that, didn’t you?” He asks, tone sultry, leaving no doubt as to how this is going to go.

He doesn’t expect an answer, not in words anyway, but Louis responds by thrusting his hips forward and grinding his cock onto Harry’s. They’re both already hardening up, the anticipation and need building within them rapidly with every passing second.

Harry grinds back, bending Louis uncomfortably over the sink and grabbing a handful of wispy hair at the nape, tugging on it to elongate Louis’ neck. He sucks a bruise beside his Adam’s apple, pausing to survey his handiwork before untangling his fingers from Louis' hair and reaching around him to turn off the tap. Louis stands upright, wriggling to try and extract himself from Harry’s grasp, but there’s barely any conviction behind it and that’s not the plan anyway. It’s not even close.

Harry steps back and in one motion, releases Louis’ hands and lifts him up and over his shoulder, arm across the backs of his knees.

“Harry!” Louis squawks, gripping onto the back of Harry’s shirt.

Harry slaps him on the arse with his free hand and growls, loud and feral. “You’re mine now, to do with as I please for the rest of the afternoon, or for however long I see fit.”

“You’re gonna drop me you big, clumsy oaf!” Louis’ hands scrabble for purchase along the walls of the hallway but it’s a pointless exercise. Harry is a man on a mission and nothing is going to stand in his way.

He rounds the entry to the bedroom and strides through, throwing Louis into the middle of the bed. He bounces and ends up on his front which is perfect for what Harry has planned. Louis goes to turn over but Harry is on him in an instant, laying his hand in the middle of his back and applying enough pressure that Louis can’t easily move.

“No. Stay there,” Harry instructs, gruff and openly affected.

Louis stills and turns his head, laying his cheek on the covers, fringe falling in front of his eyes, a piercing glare shooting at Harry.

“You’re not the boss of me. You can’t just order me around.” His words are fierce and defiant, but his demeanour is anything but, undermining his act and betraying what he truly wants. He’s already grinding into the bed, breathing laboured from his obvious arousal.

“I can and I will. For the next hour, you’re mine to do with as I want.”

It’s a relatively new dynamic for them, skirting the edges of role-play and exploring the almost limitless possibilities that lie beyond. It’s fun and fucking hot as hell. As Louis had put it so eloquently... _What’s the point of being stuck alone together on an island for six months if we can’t get a bit kinky?_ They’re not likely to be ordering a crate of whips and chains anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean they can’t get a bit creative.

Harry continues to hold Louis in place with his hand while he undoes the buttons on his shirt with the other hand, letting it fall open. Louis watches on intently, fingers gripping the covers tightly, huffing out little puffs of air, tongue peeking out to lick along his bottom lip. Harry can’t take his eyes off him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls on the end, reefing it out of the loops and dropping it to the ground, the metal clattering on the wooden floor.

Louis visibly tenses at the sound, eyes going wider, a small whimper escaping from his mouth as Harry unbuttons his jeans, shoving them down his thighs. Skinny jeans may not have been the most practical option but he’s had enough practice over the years to be able to dispense with them one-handed, and besides, the reaction he got from Louis all afternoon was worth the minor impediment.

Harry stomps the legs down and kicks them off the rest of the way, leaving his socks and briefs on, for now, he’ll deal with them later, having far more important things to attend to. He rests one knee on the mattress and rucks up Louis' jumper, lifting his hips up and dragging him down the bed, reaching underneath to deal with his button and flies. He peels the evil jeans off over Louis’ arse along with his briefs, bending forward to bite his cheek.

“Fuck!” Louis shouts in surprise, trying to edge away, but Harry just smirks and keeps him where he is, earning him a deserved glare.

Harry reaches up and grabs a pillow, sliding it under Louis’ hips and pushing him down onto it, yanking his jeans and briefs the rest of the way off, socks staying in place.

Harry knees up and over, slotting himself between Louis’ legs, spreading them out wide and kneading his arse cheek.

“So fucking gorgeous for me, baby,” Harry murmurs, eyeing his puckered hole which is already clenching and releasing rhythmically. 

Harry reaches over to the bedside table and pulls the drawer open, grabbing the lube and a condom as well as a long tie they’d fashioned from an old flannelette shirt.

Louis inhales sharply when he sees what Harry has. “ _Yes_ ,” he groans, grinding his hips into the pillow.

Harry tears the edge of the condom wrapper off in readiness and throws it, and the lube, onto the covers and leans forward, taking Louis’ wrists and crossing them over behind his back. He wraps the tie around them, tight enough to hold them in place, but not so tight that they’ll bruise. The position makes him arch his back and push his arse up further, exactly how Harry wants him.

Harry plants his hands on either side of Louis’ arms and lowers himself, planking above him. “Gonna eat you out,” Harry murmurs into his ear. “Make you pay for teasing me all afternoon.”

Louis tries to buck up into Harry’s groin, little aborted attempts, but it’s futile. With his hands tied behind his back and legs splayed wide, muscles straining, he can’t get the leverage he needs and he groans out in frustration.

Harry slides back down and off the bed, switching the bar heater on and grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. It may not be the sexiest move, but it’s fucking cold and he doesn’t want his arse to freeze. After all, he intends to be at this for a while.

Louis watches on as best he can from his position as Harry dresses and retrieves a blanket from the end of the bed, draping it over his shoulders and repositioning himself between Louis’ legs, making sure to cover his bottom half so he doesn’t get cold.

Harry grabs onto Louis’ hips and lifts him up, removing his ability to get any kind of friction on his cock. Louis whines and rocks back on his knees practically shoving his arse in Harry’s face. There are definitely worse things in the world, Harry muses to himself with a grin.

He spreads Louis’ arse cheeks and blows over his hole. “So gorgeous. Look at you.”

“God _, yeah_ ,” Louis groans and tugs on the restraints, but it’s a completely futile effort. He whines high in his throat, jerking his hips, his hard dripping cock swinging freely and slapping up onto his stomach. 

Harry knows from previous experiences that Louis doesn’t say much when they slip into these roles, instead, communicating with his body and moans and groans and whines, leaving Harry to take full control. Harry relishes the chance to give Louis what he wants and he knows exactly what that is right now.

“It’s okay,” Harry whispers reassuringly. “Gonna give you what you need, baby.”

He leans down, propping himself in his elbows, hands firmly gripping Louis cheeks and holding them open. He makes his way around the rim, kitten licks and small nips intermingled with longer, fatter swipes with his tongue. He takes his time, not giving Louis too much too soon; making him wait, making a mess, making him want his release so badly he begs for it.

Louis is panting into the covers, short sharp breaths and little gasps as Harry works him over mercilessly. He suctions on around his rim and pokes his tongue just past the tight ring of muscle, earning him an inhuman groan from Louis.

“More. More. _More_ ,” Louis rasps out, toes curling at Harry’s sides.

Harry eats him out like a man possessed, licking and sucking and tonguing inside until his lips are swollen and numb and Louis is a writhing, begging mess, spouting a near-constant stream of curses and pleads. He can always colour-out if he really needs to, they may not be experts but they knew enough to establish some simple rules for each other’s safety as they started down this path. 

Harry slides a finger in beside his tongue, the glide easy with the saliva that is covering Louis’ arse and Harry’s face, dripping off Louis’ balls and down his cock. He adds a second finger almost immediately, angling straight for Louis’ prostate and Louis cries out in ecstasy.

Harry’s so hard in his sweatpants, desperate to get inside Louis, to feel him clench around him, to sink in and slam into him again and again, get them both off and reach their euphoric peaks.

Louis starts chanting a new plea. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

Louis is ready, more than ready, and although he could easily come like this, that’s not what Harry wants and he’s certain that’s not what Louis wants either.

He doesn’t even bother to take his clothes off, there’s no time. He just pushes his sweatpants down his thighs and reaches out for the condom, continuing to eat Louis out and finger him while he blindly takes it out of the pre-torn wrapper with one hand and rolls it down his length, slicking himself up.

He removes his mouth and kisses and nips at his cheeks as he dribbles lube onto Louis hole, adding a third finger and then a fourth in quick succession.

From this new angle Harry can see Louis’ hands balled tightly into fists behind his back, restraint taut, knuckles white, fingernails digging into his palms. His head is turned to the side so he can suck in air, cheek flushed, sweat at his temple.

“Ready, baby?” Harry asks into his skin and Louis cranes his neck to see him, gaze wild, nodding violently.

Harry sits up and rests on his heels, four fingers still stretching Louis wide, pumping in and out. He shuffles forward, lining himself up, withdrawing two of his fingers, scissoring with the remaining two as he nudges his cock at Louis’ entrance.

Louis groans and edges back as Harry removes his final two fingers and presses his cock against his rim.

“Nrgghhh… _yes_ ,” Louis says through gritted teeth as Harry slides inside, Louis' hole sucking him in inch by inch, eyes darting between Louis’ face and watching where he’s disappearing inside of him.

Harry loves this bit, can’t get enough of it, the feeling of Louis drawing him in, sheathing him with the warmth of his walls, slick and tight and dizzyingly good. His brain is foggy, blood rushing in his ears, the whole world fading away to leave just the two of them, joined as one.

Harry bottoms out, thighs flush against the backs of Louis’ legs, balls tight, slotting against Louis’, spit and lube making it sticky and so fucking hot Harry can barely breathe.

He rubs circles on Louis’ hips with his thumbs. “Fuck yeah. So good. So perfect for me.”

He waits for Louis to give him the go-ahead, for his body to adjust. Harry’s prepped him well so he’s not surprised when Louis rotates his pelvis and sighs out. 

“Move,” Louis murmurs as he starts to grind back onto Harry mindlessly, uncoordinated.

Harry grabs onto the tie holding Louis’ hands in place, using it as leverage and pulling it tight, stretching his arms and forcing his back to arch. The change in angle forces Harry’s cock to hit Louis’ prostate and he groans in response.

Harry starts to move in and out, slowly at first, savouring the delicious friction and gorgeous sounds falling from Louis’ lips. He ups his speed quickly though, pulling Louis back onto him as he pushes forward. He feels like he’s riding one of those mechanical bulls and has a ridiculous urge to fling his arm above his head and _yeehaw_. But Louis would probably kill him, so he opts to keep the idea to himself.

Harry pounds into him, the sound of skin slapping on skin and their heavy breathing filling the room. He’s so close already, the build-up from the afternoon and seeing Louis like this, restrained and at Harry’s mercy, has that familiar feeling tugging low in his gut.

Louis doesn’t seem to be faring any better, Harry’s cock ramming into his prostate is pushing him closer to the edge with every slam of Harry’s hips.

Louis starts to whine, little puffed breaths, urgent and needy. Harry increases his pace. “That’s it, baby. Come on.”

He could reach around and strip Louis cock to push him over the edge, but Harry has a plan. He wants to make Louis come untouched. They haven’t managed it so far, but he’s pretty sure today’s the day.

Harry runs his thumb down from the top of Louis’ crack, pressing it against his hole where his dick is sliding in and out. His rim is stretched tight, glistening with lube and spit. Harry keeps his hand still, waiting for the muscle to give. He slows his thrusts, holding his breath.

Louis gasps, realisation obviously dawning on him as to Harry’s intentions. “Haz. Fuck. _Fuck_.”

The moment it slides inside is like nothing Harry has ever experienced before. Louis cries out a strangled _Yes!_ , burying his face into the covers as the pressure on Harry’s cock intensifies. He watches, mesmerized, as Louis’ hole makes space for the extra intrusion, digging his thumb into his cock as it glides in and out. It’s so much and he really isn’t going to last much longer.

“ _God_ , Lou. Oh my god. Taking me so well. Amazing. You’re amazing,” he pants out, words tumbling from his lips as he tries to hold back his orgasm. Just a little longer. He just has to hold off a little longer.

He increases his speed again, pounding into Louis with a renewed vigour, pulling on the tie and lifting Louis’ chest right off the bed, head hanging low.

The shift of his body must be the final straw for Louis. “Fuck. _Fuck_. Yes!”

His hole clenches around Harry and he wails, throwing his head back as he comes. Harry’s vision whites out, two more thrusts and then he’s coming too, body and mind suspended in a limbo of orgasmic haze. His thumb slips out and he releases his hold on the tie, falling forwards and planting his hands either side of Louis’ body. Louis slumps down onto the bed and Harry breathes hotly into his ear. “Fucking hell. Holy shit.”

Harry slowly regains the ability to form thoughts, righting himself and sitting back on his heels. He unties Louis’ wrists, rubbing them gently to get the blood flowing, massaging his back and shoulders through his jumper as Louis lets out adorable little mewls. He carefully rolls Louis over into his side and lays down next to him, pulling the blanket up over them both and drawing Louis in close. He places soft kisses to Louis’ cheeks and forehead, lips and eyelids as Louis sighs contentedly.

Gradually, Louis comes back to himself, opening his eyes and staring up at Harry, a grin curling at the corners of his mouth. He clears his throat and lifts the blanket, glancing down between them. A low chuckle bubbling out of him.

“You didn’t even take your fucking sweatpants off, you heathen.”

Harry smirks and lets his gaze slide down Louis’ body, softening cock hanging across his hip. “Had other priorities.”

“Mmmmm… yeah you did.”

“So, how was it?”

Louis leans in and cups Harry’s jaw, licking over his lips in a silent request. Harry opens up easily and lets Louis take his fill, hands roaming over Louis’ back and arse.

Louis pulls back, hooded eyes meeting Harry’s gaze. “It was fucking incredible. First time for me. Coming untouched.”

And wait. What? They’ve tried before but Louis hadn’t revealed he’d _never_ managed it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re something else, Harry Styles.”

“I aim to please,” Harry says smugly.

“Well, ten out of ten would recommend.”

Harry snorts out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Perhaps,” Louis says with a smirk. “A well-fucked idiot though.”

Harry takes a hold of Louis’ hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the inside of his wrist. “How’re your arms and wrists.”

“Fine. Good. I mean, I won’t be doing any heavy lifting tomorrow, but they’re okay. Was definitely worth it.”

“Well have to invest in some proper… stuff.”

Louis raises his eyebrow. “Stuff?”

Harry feels a blush creep up onto his cheeks which is absurd given what they’ve just done. “You know. Stuff. Things. Equipment.”

Louis giggles. “Equipment?” 

“Fuck _off_ ,” Harry whines and rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“You’re all kinds of adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

“And you’re far too sassy for someone who just got their brains fucked out.”

“I recover quickly.”

Harry smirks, quirking a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“No,” Louis says emphatically, pushing Harry in the chest. “No, no, no. We’re done for the day. My arse is officially off-limits for at least twenty-four hours.”

Harry nudges his hips forward, rubbing his cock against Louis’.

“Oi!” Louis squawks indignantly. “Keep that _thing_ away from me!”

“Awww, Lou. You’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun. The most funnest.”

Harry pulls him in for a soft kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too, babe. I’d love you even more if you’d carry me to the shower and change the sheets.”

Harry smiles. “Anything for my baby.”

~~~~

The sun is officially an asshole. It thinks it’s so amusing, shining in through the windows with absolutely no regard for the pounding headache in Harry’s head. The wind can fuck right off too. Exactly how it manages to get under the eaves and whistle at the exact pitch that pierces straight through Harry’s eyeballs is a mystery he would like the answer to if only he could summon the brainpower to think of anything other _ouch_ and _fuck_ and _tea_.

He leans his elbows on the counter, head hanging low and then just slides the rest of the way down, cheek pressing into the cool surface as he waits for the kettle to boil. He can barely hold himself upright and that’s just fine. Fine and dandy. Fine and… whatever. Words and thoughts are highly overrated.

Harry had kept his promise and resisted getting amorous with Louis’ arse again last night. But just because he couldn’t fuck him didn’t mean they couldn’t do other things. Obviously, the only rational thing left to do was play stupid card games. Stupid sexy card games. Stupid sexy drinking card games. 

Harry’s pretty sure there’s not a drop of alcohol left in the cottage, which right about now is a fortunate thing because otherwise he’d be forced to tip it down the sink. He’s never drinking again. Ever.

He hears a groan coming from the hallway and manages to turn his head in time to see a very sheepish Louis come into the doorway, hands planting on the wall to hold himself up, squinting as the sunlight hits his eyes.

“Oh god,” Louis says, voice gravelly. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, a deep pillow crease down the side of his face. Somehow he’s still the most beautiful thing Harry has ever seen.

“Today’s cancelled,” Harry states matter-of-factly.

“And tomorrow too, I’d reckon.”

Louis pushes off the door jam and leans precariously to one side, pausing to get his balance before making his way to the couch. Harry would laugh at him but it’d hurt too much.

“I think we’re too old to drink like that anymore.”

“God,” Louis rasps out. “What the fuck did we drink last night?”

“Everything?”

Louis groans again as the kettle clicks off and Harry pushes himself upright. He grabs two mugs off the dish drainer and makes their tea, being sure to have one hand on the bench to steady himself at all times. He’s dizzy and one wrong move will most certainly have him beating a path back to the bathroom to throw up some more. Not that there can possibly be anything left. He and Louis had spent so much time in there this morning that they’d eventually dragged a blanket in to sit on, taking turns at the toilet bowl. It wasn’t either of their finest hours but Harry’s decided that rubbing each other’s back while they emptied the contents of their stomachs is the definition of true love.

Harry moves slowly, carrying Louis’ tea over and then returning for his own, not wanting to tempt fate by trying to do both at the same time. Louis scooches over on the couch to make room and Harry lays down, top-to-tail. 

They lay quietly, sipping their tea and wait for the paracetamol they’d taken earlier to kick in. Gradually Harry feels the jackhammers subside and the tea starts to settle his rumbling tummy.

“Need food, Haz,” Louis announces and lifts his head enough for Harry to see his bloodshot eyes, pleading expression on his face.

“We’ve got the leftovers from lunch. How about some damper? Might be easy to digest.”

“I love you,” Louis says and closes his eyes again, resting his head back on the arm of the couch.

Harry swings his legs over and plants his feet, steadying himself before he gets up. The dizziness is waning but he’s still careful as he reheats the damper and adds a layer of butter to ease the dry texture. He makes them a second cup of tea and mixes them a glass each of Hydralite, leftovers from when Louis was sick, to try and replenish some of the electrolytes they’ve no doubt lost.

Louis smiles sweetly at him as they munch on their food and sip their drinks. Harry’s camera is on the coffee table beside his laptop, out of its case, lens cap nowhere to be seen. He reaches over and grabs it, powering it on and flicking through to see what gems he’d managed to capture of their escapades.

There’s a lot of blurry, smiling Louis, which isn’t at all surprising. He oohs and ahhs at them as he turns his camera to show Louis who just rolls his eyes until he’s quickly reminded of his headache and winces. There are images of some body parts, which are on a spectrum from PG-Rated to downright obscene, which Louis finds hilarious but makes Harry promise to delete them anyway. There are some odd ones taken outside and Harry can hardly make out anything, the darkness and exposure all wrong, but his drunken self clearly didn’t care. There are a heap of them, picture after picture of what seems to be the same thing.

“What the hell were we doing outside?” Harry chuckles as he scrolls through.

Louis shrugs and leans over to see as Harry holds out the camera in front of them so they both look together. 

The world around them slows, images on the screen and jagged pieces of memories from Harry’s own mind mingling together and then everything screeches to halt.

“Oh my god,” they both say in unison.

On the little screen is a picture of Louis, still blurry but easier to make out. He’s naked, save for a beanie and his boots, heels clicking together and arms above his head as he jumps in the air, pasty white arse shining in the moonlight. 

“The nudie run…” Louis whispers, mortification evident in his tone. He sets his tea down and takes the camera from Harry to get a better look.

Harry starts to giggle, he can’t help it. Even though his head would very much like him to stop, that ship has sailed. The giggle builds to a full-throated laugh and he throws his head back, cackling toward the ceiling. “Holy crap. The nudie run!”

“Why the fuck did you let me run around naked in sub-zero temperatures?!”

Harry would like to respond with some sort of witty retort but he just can’t quell the peels of laughter cascading out of his mouth.

Louis rounds on him, jabbing him with the camera, Harry takes it off him for fear that it’ll get smashed in the ruckus and sets it on the coffee table. “I thought you liked my cock! And my arse! And yet here I am, just begging for frostbite to do permanent damage to the assets and you just let me!”

Harry takes in his expression, wild and with fire in his eyes and another honk escapes his throat. He falls sideways on the couch, trying to suck in air.

Louis whacks him with a throw cushion repeatedly and Harry draws his legs up to protect his own _assets_.

Harry peeks over his knees. “Awwww, baby. As if I could stop you from doing anything when you’ve put your mind to it.”

“You’re supposed to protect me!” Louis screeches, standing up so he can whack Harry properly.

“From yourself? I’m not sure I have that kind of time, Lou.”

Louis blanches, mouth agape, but before he can react Harry reaches up and in one motion swats the cushion out of his hand and grabs his shoulders, pulling him down on top of him and wrapping him up in a tight bear hug, legs around the backs of his thighs.

“Shhhhh... Shhhhhh... Can we not wrestle when we’ve got hangovers?”

Louis squirms but gives up quickly, the fight seeping out of him. “Can’t believe you let me do that,” he grumbles into Harry’s neck,

Harry rubs circles in his back. “Can’t believe I didn’t get a better picture.”

Louis bites him on the neck, hard, and Harry figures he probably deserves it.

They lay there for a long while, Louis on top of Harry, then side by side, then Louis half on top of him, head pillowed on his chest. Sleep pulls them both under and they nap until their stomachs protest. Harry piles their plates high with leftover potato salad, pasta and bread.

By the time mid-afternoon rolls around they’re almost feeling like humans again and they sit by the fire sipping tea and demolishing what remained of the pavlova and lamingtons.

Louis is fiddling around on his laptop preparing a blog post when an email swishes into his inbox. Harry doesn’t pay it any mind until he hears Louis suck in a sharp breath.

“Haz! Our application got accepted!”

Harry snaps his head to Louis and leans over, quickly scanning the email. “Oh my god. Yes!” He shouts, fist pumping in the air before pulling him in, their lips finding each other in a bruising kiss. 

They break apart and Harry stares into Louis' crinkled eyes, pure joy written all over his face.

“Arctic Circle here we come,” Louis says and leans in for another kiss. Harry gives it to him gladly, willingly, always. Anything for Louis; his love, his life, his future.

Hello friends. Well, it’s official. We have less than one month before we depart the island. It’s kinda hard to wrap our heads around, to be honest.

The visit from the Friends of Maatsuyker was a raging success and Harry outdid himself with the spread for the hard workers. Other than that it’s been a fairly uneventful time here so not much to report.

But! We do have some exciting news to share. (Drum roll please…) Harry and I are excited to announce that while our time on Maatsuyker Island might be coming to end, our journey isn’t over. We’ve decided to keep going on this adventure and our application has been accepted for our next posting!

Yup! That’s right. The No Going Back boys will be continuing on this crazy ride and will be heading straight to our next exciting gig, this time just on the outskirts of the 8.2 million-acre Arctic National Park at a place called Cold Foot Camp. Apparently, the camp was so named because explorers got that far, decided it wasn’t a great idea to keep going, and turned back around, getting a case of ‘cold feet’. The camp provides food and lodging to travellers along the Dalton Highway about 60 miles north of the Arctic Circle and 240 miles south of the Arctic Ocean. So yeah, it’s quite literally in the middle nowhere.

It’ll be pretty different to what we’ve had here at Maatsuyker, for one, we won’t be on our own, but we’re really looking forward to it.

Lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!


	6. The Future Awaits

All good things must come to an end and so it is for our time as caretakers of the Maatsuyker Island Lighthouse. Tomorrow is our last day in this beautiful, and sometimes challenging place, and we are all packed and ready for our next exciting adventure.

We truly had no idea what we were signing up for when we submitted our applications all those months ago. It’s been so much more than we could ever have imagined in the best possible way. It’s been hard at times, for sure, the weather’s been a bitch and the isolation has been tough but we’ve had an experience so few get and we feel incredibly fortunate.

On a personal note, I guess the most important thing is that I’ve found the love of my life, my partner, my better half, my soulmate. I’m a sap, I know. In fairness, Harry is one of a kind and I can’t believe how lucky I am that he was still out there, just waiting for me to stumble onto him and snatch him up.

And so for the last time, we’re signing off from Maatsuyker, with lots of love from the arse end of the Earth!

Catch you all in the Arctic as our adventure continues!

Louis stares out of the window of the mini-bus as it trundles down the highway, snow-capped mountains in the distance, a hint of what they can expect from their new home for the next four months at Coldfoot Camp on the edge of the Arctic National Park.

They’d said goodbye to their little cottage on Maatsuyker Island a week ago. It was bittersweet; sad to be leaving, of course, but also excited for what their next posting would bring. The island had been good to them. It had given them a taste for this unusual lifestyle; the isolation, the physical labour, learning new skills. But most of all, it was where he’d fallen in love, real grown-up love, for the first, and hopefully last, time in his life.

Harry had cried buckets of tears in those last couple days as they packed up and readied themselves to leave. Louis openly admits that he’d joined him on more than one occasion. It’s a strange thing to think that somewhere that has been your home for six months, that has become such a big part of your life, will be a place you may never set foot on again. Their time may have been brief, but Maatsuyker has a permanent place in their hearts, a little corner carved out that will always be special and untouchable. The new caretakers seem wonderful though, so they were happy to be handing over to people who will take care of it just as lovingly as they did. 

The chopper had returned them to Hobart and they’d said their farewells to Grant and Alex and the rest of the team. Their first flight was a short one, just across Bass Strait to Melbourne where they’d taken a few days to acclimate back into the world before their long journey to Alaska. They’d forked out for a fancy city hotel and a couple of nice dinners to spoil each other given they won’t get the opportunity to do that again for a while, and hit the shops till they nearly dropped for new weather-appropriate clothes.

Their flight path was convoluted and long, nearly forty hours all-up, from Melbourne to LA, then on to Seattle, and finally landing in Fairbanks, Alaska, a few hours ago. He’s tired, they both are, but they’re excited too about what their new adventure will bring.

The experience at the camp is going to be very different to the island. For one, they won’t be on their own. They’ll have their own cabin out the back of the camp but their workdays will be spent in the diner and bar, looking after the travellers that come along the highway. From their base, they’ll also be able to explore into the Arctic National Park and Harry is excited for the new scenery and wildlife for him to photograph. And then there’s the Northern Lights. Harry had done his research and picked up some new lenses in Melbourne so he’ll be able to capture the ethereal phenomenon.

Their blog subscribers had been so thrilled that they were continuing their adventures. Lovely comments and well wishes had flooded in after their announcement and Louis is keen to share the journey with them all. He’s thinking about writing more seriously, some short stories maybe, even a novel down the track. There are plenty of ideas swimming around in his head, but nothing has jumped out at him just yet. There’s time though, always time.

The sun is teetering on the edge of the distant mountain range, bouncing off the brilliant white peaks and casting shadows over the icy plains, only another couple of hours and it will be dark. 

His mind drifts back to his old life and he’s in awe of how much things have changed in such a short timeframe. From the drudgery of his mundane existence, hotel rooms and conferences, dinners eaten alone, one-night stands, everything impersonal, everything predictable; a life half-lived. But that’s nothing but a distant memory now. Now he feels like he’s really living. Experiencing things with Harry, sharing the good and the bad, means he gets to live through his own eyes and also through Harry’s.

He ponders how random life is. A chance meeting. A few drinks. A Facebook alert. A leap of faith. How one different choice, one sliding door, a left instead of a right, a no instead of a yes, could have changed their lives.

He’ll forever be grateful that the universe allowed them to meet, to find happiness and love, and chart a new course together. He can’t imagine not knowing Harry, not having him by his side every day, not seeing his gorgeous face every morning, not feeling the warmth of his embrace. His terrible jokes, his beautiful mind, his kind heart.

When Louis had thought of how his life would play out he’d hoped for someone to love, to build a home with, to grow old with. But he’d never dared hope to find someone as amazing as Harry.

His future's so much brighter now, overflowing with possibilities. After the Arctic, they’re thinking of a warmer climate to change things up. Somewhere in Africa. Or a Pacific Island. Asia perhaps. Harry’s mentioned wanting to work with animals, a sanctuary maybe and Louis thinks that’s brilliant. They haven’t made up their minds yet but they’ve got time, no need to rush into a decision. As long as they’re together, they’ll find their way. As long as they’re together, they’re home.

He looks down and smiles, stroking Harry’s hair, his head laid in Louis’ lap, legs stretched out and taking up the entire back seat. He’s sleeping soundly, hands wrapped around the backs of Louis’ knees to anchor himself during the rocky ride.

Louis’ gaze travels up and he scans around the small cabin, the soft sounds of a strummed guitar filling the space. There’s only two other people on the bus aside from the driver, both of whom will be working at Coldfoot Camp for the four-month season along with Louis and Harry. They’d greeted each other with welcome smiles and short introductions when they got on board at the airport. They seem like nice blokes and similar in age too; an eager looking Irishman who hasn’t put his guitar down since they met and another Northerner, from Wolverhampton, with big puppy dog brown eyes.

Louis thinks they might all get along pretty well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, a kudos or comment or both would be lovely xx
> 
> I've had such a lot of fun spending time in this little world with these characters, and I'm going to miss them quite a lot, but they'll always have a special place in my heart.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/618634930420891649/no-going-back-by-jacaranda-bloom-lighthouse) that would be lovely!
> 
> [ No Going Back - Companion Travel Blog !!](https://nogoingback.travel.blog/)
> 
> Don't forget that this fic has a companion travel blog which is beautiful and filled with gorgeous images and manips built entirely by my artistic collaborator, Isa. 
> 
> Lots of love from the arse end of Earth!
> 
> xx
> 
> PS If you'd like to be notified when I post other stories, you can subscribe [ here ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/).


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